He was sentimental because he had always been sentimental, an eye for his underlings that showed promise and a need to challenge them, see the rise up, surpass him because that would make a better team, a better world then the rotten, dark shadows that was so often associated with mafia.
He smiled indulgently at Percival and Lancelot, noting the closeness, noting the sentimentality in the touch of Lancelot’s hand on Pericval’s even if Lancelot was half out of it thanks to the sedative he’d been forced to endure, and—
His smile widened and there was a brief chuckle before he winced, his wounds stretching at the slight movement. “It means your happiness is Percival’s own reward.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Did you think I thought to steal him away from you?”
He may have trained his current vice-captains (if he could even call them vice captains now that he was on the way out), but that didn’t mean he’d trained them. Not unless they had asked; not unless he could trust their discreetness; not unless…
Well, even Siegfried sometimes made mistakes. But he had paid that price and endured.
no subject
He smiled indulgently at Percival and Lancelot, noting the closeness, noting the sentimentality in the touch of Lancelot’s hand on Pericval’s even if Lancelot was half out of it thanks to the sedative he’d been forced to endure, and—
His smile widened and there was a brief chuckle before he winced, his wounds stretching at the slight movement. “It means your happiness is Percival’s own reward.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Did you think I thought to steal him away from you?”
He may have trained his current vice-captains (if he could even call them vice captains now that he was on the way out), but that didn’t mean he’d trained them. Not unless they had asked; not unless he could trust their discreetness; not unless…
Well, even Siegfried sometimes made mistakes. But he had paid that price and endured.