"Sure. Regular and decaf. I'm not much for anything too fancy." He gives a wink to the demonic barista, and holds his hand out for the carafe, to give to Ferroc. Don't worry about it, he's got this.

And if he doesn't, then he'll be grateful that limbs grow back here.

He holds the carafe out to Ferroc, gaze steady.

"Is that someone I should know? My country is a little unimaginative in terms of mad kings."