A cold flash masked by a gentle smile. Erwin advanced his bishop, bolstering his hold on the quarter and developing what was becoming, however slowly, an extremely direct assault on Levi's queen.

As he refilled Levi's cup, he remarked, casual, "Really. Confident." Tellingly he raised no objections. "I would only ask you for something very small."

The words hung in the air, solemn and aureate, couched in his round, sound, clear voice. The snowfall was general and persistent beyond the windows, enfolding all the world in hushed and splendid whiteness. Erwin was wearing that creepy smile again. He was thinking about the dirty bit. The untidy part of the tidy captain. The booty.