[Eridanus inhales those wicked words that promise delicious cruelty as if it were a bouquet of sweet flowers, his flushed countenance already softening with the doting fondness of a lover. His verdant gaze half-lids at Lucius, gracing him with a look of adulation from beneath flattered lashes.

He's partially distracted by the way Lucius' mouth spreads far too wide to bare those needle-teeth in a charmingly deadly smile, admiring the way they catch the light of dusk; but when his sharpened words catch in Eridanus' ears, any fawning expression he had worn is gone.

As if the words uttered were an offense to him, his visage sours with anger and pain in kind, where his mouth pinches with ire behind his opaline maw.] You dare insult me by suggesting I settle for second best? [His own words are a poisonous hiss as he suddenly stops in his stride.]

I want nothing less than the best for our duel, a second-rate artist will only spoil the occasion. [Irritation prickles across his skin, but then, as quickly as it came with a thought—it's gone with another. Eridanus' brows lift as he comes to his own solution to this predicament, and a smile spreads across his face once more.]

I know... we find whichever artist we seek, and then, we torture and kill the others before him. That way he knows what lay in store for him should he decide to sneak away from his obligation — the perfect plan, no?