[There is a moment, a split second, when it seems that a slap might resonate throughout the chamber of Helios, one barely in check enough to prevent a delicate spine from snapping and instead break a jaw or cheekbone. There is another split second when it seems that in reaction to a sudden presence, the centaur ready to strike might turn her attention defensively to whatever approaches, instinctive and snarling-

But Akua is there, and her hand is on her arm. An archer’s finely chiseled muscles spasm beneath the other woman’s dark, warm fingers, one remaining eye finds her ablaze with rage and petty insult, and for another moment… Who can tell what is happening? Hayame’s fingers tighten further in voluminous robes, teeth grind and canines gnash… and it seems like she’s listening, but honestly? Only halfway. The other half-

Is glad for an excuse for this pathetic clash to end in a way that still saves face. He wants to make a show of it? Fine, he can have a gods damned show. After a long pause in which she sharply takes in the man in her grasp, the distance between his feet and the floor...]

It seems a woman with whom I owe business would have me release you. You might thank her.

[Important, demon binding business. She announces it just as grandly as the man in her grip had drawn their audience in to the idea of his passive resistance. Hayame might could care less about making her revenge count, or proving him right, but. But-]

But do not think I will not remember your slights against me, elf thing, just because I spare you for your insult now.

[No. She could not forget. And “elf” was a guess, but so far, ears like that had been belonging to people who called themselves elves, so perhaps that was it. Another thing she didn’t mean to ever have to care about-

Like how she didn’t care if Voryn tripped or stumbled when she shoves him bodily back onto the chaise lounge.]