Between the closeness and the touch, there's a moment where the Duke's words don't register, Lucien's gaze falling on the man's lips for that fraction of a second. As the fae processes his words, his eyes raise back up, and right before Lux disappears he gets a glimpse of burning emotion- anger? fear? - in Lucien's russet eye, the golden one impassive but narrowing.

When the duke spirits to the other side of the table, Lucien releases a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. His charming smile returns. "Ah, yes. The rivalry between seasonal and solar courts. It's much more pronounced here than home, but each ruler there has their own territory. I shudder to imagine all our high lords having to share one castle, one town. You have my sympathy."