In the basement, he had told him to leave the room. Russell hadn't meant Noctis to leave entirely. But he wasn't in a fit state to argue with him. "You could be just slightly less frustrating," Russell sighed, pouring himself another glass of orange juice. "Not unless you want to go back to the auction house."
Russell had provided for Noctis. He was living in the upper house in a nice big room right across from his own rather than in the slave's room down in the cellar where Carrick had hidden for the day. He let him eat as much as he wanted. And he was trying very very hard to treat Noctis well. He was just so hard to get along with. Russ settled down at the kitchen table. "Do you want to go back to the auction house?"