Cassian was working his way down. Addressing those closest to him first, then the issues that followed. Someone else certainly could have had this discussion with Zevran, but Cassian had taken it upon himself. He wanted to look into the Dresmondi's eyes.

The king sat at his desk. His dark eyes on the entering man and his fuzzy companion were stony, as always. Cassian was nothing if not a serious king. He didn't laugh, barely smiled, and took all matters pertaining to Nevermere very seriously. Zevran's presence here happened to be one of those things.

This wasn't an interrogation. This wasn't even a hand slapping for what the Dresmondi had declared in the ballroom. This was simply a sentence, you might say.

"Seeing as your service of providing information concerning the state of Dresmond has been satisfied, I will now return you to either Arynn Frey, where your companion Kezia is, or back to Elderkeep. The decision is yours." Cassian stood and withdrew the portkey from his pocket. This was happening now. Zevran had shown up with nothing on his back, and he'd leave with nothing on his back.

Zevran blinked once at the abrupt words from the King, his gaze shifting from the man's face to the thing he pulled from his pocket. A moment of quiet stretched between them, the hesitation not from a lack of wanting to go home, but for not getting a chance to say goodbye to anyone at all. Not Alys, Ber, or any of the other Nevermerans who had become his friends over the past season. They would simply find him gone.

He knew the King would not care about any of that. Had made it clear when he'd ordered Regan to remove him from the ball because he simply didn't want him there. Perhaps all of the friends he'd made here hadn't really been friends at all, but had only entertained him out of pity.

A thought he may find preposterous later, but in this moment, with only the darkness of his own thoughts for company since the ball fell into chaos, it was the only thing that made sense. And he found that he simply wanted to be among his own kind. A quiet, low whine escaped Rune as she also lamented the abrupt end to those relationships.

Some emotion flickered once in his eyes before Zevran said quietly, "We will go home, to Elderkeep."

The truth of the matter was, Nevermere was not the place for Zevran. Not at a military ball, not engaged in friendships with Nevermereans, not the castle…none of it. He was an informant for his people, trying to save his people, and that was it. While Nevermere intended to get involved, a Dresmondi was not welcome to become involved in this kingdom.

Cassian slipped his key into the door and turned it. When he opened it, they would find themselves looking into a dusty, abandoned wagon. Cassian frowned slightly, but his expression was neutral when he looked back at Zevran.

“Will this suffice?” If not, he would try again.

The sight of the wagon through the doorway was enough to make Zevran's shoulders sag. Overcome with emotion, all he could do was nod his head. He had been away for so long and now he would simply reappear, with no army at his back, and no clue on when the outside help would come now.

He swallowed hard now, finding enough courage to voice a single question. "Is there anything you would have me do there? If... if you still plan to come after the Eldouirs." Not to help the Dresmondi, but to snuff out an enemy of Nevermere. He had long learned that to be the truth of the matter.

Cassian noticed the man’s demeanor. Having had limited exposure to the Dresmondi, he assumed it was because the man was returning to his old life rather than keeping with the new one he had been building in Nevermere. Well, it was always Cassian’s intention to send him back. Nevermere was not where Zevran belonged.

At the question, Cassian paused. A long, silent beat followed before he said,

“Lay low…but be ready. Nevermere intends to come. It is simply a matter of when. When possible, I will be in touch.” The words likely wouldn’t give Zevran a peace of mind, but it was all Cassian had to offer. He couldn’t send troops to Dresmond while his military was in disarray. It would be a slaughter. Nevermere came first, always.

Zevran could only nod at the King's words, finding very little comfort in them. Nevermere would come, eventually. What would become of Dresmond in the mean time?

Knowing there were no other options left, Zevran offered a quiet, "Thank you," accompanied by a small yip by Rune, and then the pair would move to step through the portal and back into the belly of the beast.