Nathaniel’s fist clenched below the table. Loki had spoken to his son and Warren had opened his incessant trap. Only the innocent words of his boy’s correction and Eva’s magical caress imbued Nate with the strength to hold his tongue. Though is eyes focused on Eva once more and he gifted her the sensation of him not sparing his tongue against the gentle curve of her ear. “Yes, he likes to be called Thor,” Nathaniel agreed with his son then ruffled the boy's feathers a bit. “But I’ve discovered sometimes kings and queens don’t always know best,” it was a jest more than a challenge. “Which is part of the reason I work so much...”