Gabe clearly hadn't taken the presence of boiling liquid into account as a possible threat, but luckily for him William was feeling magnanimous. To a degree. "Do I want to know?" he asked, offering Gabe's cup and saucer with an arched eyebrow. "I suppose you could give me a spell-by-spell recount. Rumour has it you not only attended, but also served as the referee."
He offered the cream and sugar pots in turn, setting down the pot so that he could spoon and pour as necessary. He might be internally sulking with the proficiency of someone who had once been a fourteen-year-old boy, but William was British, and this was tea, and tea was civilised.
"I would like to know, if I'm so highly in demand as a paramour, why no one has been pressing their suit rather than waving wands at each other." He hid a smile behind the dish of cream and lamented primly, "I feel distinctly un-taken advantage of."