Azrael snorted softly, stroking Yves a few more times before returning to his tea. He really out to see about getting a cat, Svetlana might like that. So would he, cats were more suited to him than dogs. Especially with his crazy schedules.
"Ah, he's the loud one because you can't be," Azrael reasoned, nodding. "Makes sense. Well he's doing an admirable job of it, in any case."
He didn't fidget under the gaze, because he was used to it, but also because he'd been told (by various sources of varying reliability) that he had his own version. Though he supposed his was more...like having a statue watch you. (That's how Anthony phrased it, anyway, so Azrael had more or less accepted it.)
"Can't get anything past you, can I." It was a statement, not a question. "That's a...strange story, but I'll try to summarize. I rescued the granddaughter of Hermes when she was being attacked, and he, thinking he was repaying me, sent me a wife. And if I sent her back to Russia, she likely would have been killed as a failure. That was...over four years ago now. Her name is Svetlana, and it's a rather unconventional arrangement. But we're making it work."