This... certainly wasn't the sort of situation that Leiland had expected them to return to. He might have thought that it had been intentional had Percival not immediately intervened in a way that seemed to speak of surprise and rage, the actions leaving him just as baffled as Zaul'Nazh's words had left him cold. Oh, he'd known that his Lord hadn't respected him, that he'd been offering him scraps and little tidbits of praise to keep him satiated, but that respect and admiration especially were likely to never come. But this... For it to go to the extent of acting as though it was somehow entertaining to deem him, to make him beg for the little favor that he got, when he'd betrayed everything that he'd ever known to serve him was...
He'd deal with sorting out those feelings as soon as his mind was able to come to grips with what was happening in front of him, the sheer fervent defense that Percival was offering up on his behalf, as well as the sight of him slamming Zaul'Nazh forcefully against his throne left Leiland feeling.... confused? And warm. Yes. Confused and warm. But in a weirdly good way.
He'd try and unpack that later.
Sneaking around the outside of the throne room, Leiland moved behind the chair, edging towards the door as he cast a glance back over his shoulder at Percival, giving him a very intent look before shaking his head. It wasn't worth it. He'd made his point, and now... Well. It would probably be better to just leave him to stew on it. He'd be much more likely to shoot himself in the foot if he was just left to do with that information what he would.