Michel could feel Zevran lock up, it rippled across the bed, and whether it was something that Zevran had done wrong or Michel had done wrong...or perhaps both of them, the Chevalier couldn't say. There were a number of things running through his head right now and perhaps keeping so much of this to himself was driving him crazy. He curled in on himself after a moment, immediately regretting it, how a man as broad and tall as he could look as though he were disappearing, but it didn't last.

After a moment he twisted back around on the bed and bowed his biddably, as tractable toward Zevran as he'd ever been toward the Empress. It came with so many years of service and practiced dissembling, "...I apologize...it's nothing that really matters right now."