Julius's obstinance had kept him miles away at all times from anyone who could be even generously be called a master of Fae magic. Avoided them almost as a rule, save for a few quick brushes here and there. The Cait Sidhe in Chicago, a few solitary types who'd sprinkled themselves in with polite society who'd nod in solidarity but not share any secrets on how to sharpen his skills, the woman in Las Vegas who'd clearly been worse at magic than he if she hadn't been quick enough to close that deal, those sorts of things. Shara was the closest he'd been to one of his kind, and even she would be difficult to learn from with such a different focus to her magic. But she easily had two thousand years on Errol, so there was that. And that was saying something, since his father was old. And didn't bother to reign in his magic at all.
It made Julius's skin prickle. He left the other mug and tea infuser on the counter and hopped up onto the one opposite with his own steaming mug of undoctored black (Irish Breakfast) tea. It was a calculated move--having the literal high ground--meant to look casual. "Suit yourself," he said with a half shrug, not offering anything else. His pantry was mostly filled with mortal food anyway. Save for a cupcake from Shara's bakery that he'd been saving for a rainy day, and he didn't plan on sharing it.
"Hmm." Julius chewed the inside of his lip, fingers wrapped around the mug absorbing the warmth of it like a security blanket. That was a rather backhanded compliment, wasn't it? There had been so many variables that had added up to him getting this far, and the smallest misstep could have ended in tragedy. "Yes, well, it was adapt or perish, and since I didn't want to die... Well, you know how I feel about ultimatums."
He watched intently as his father essentially sniffed around, realizing he must be feeling several different kinds of magic and presences that were not Julius. The Witch magic from the wards James had created to keep Maeve out, and then hints of whatever Maeve was from when he let her in anyway, probably a hint of Siren from the token he'd taken from Prince, still in the back of his closet, and of course, a heavy dose of Marie. It was a veritable United Nations in his house at this point. Julius frowned into his tea. Her regards. What a cozy sentiment from the woman who'd birthed him. "You can tell her I say 'Likewise'," He said after a moment. "Is that why you came? To pass on that message?"