It was in the curl of his lip. No one had to warn Taiga to be wary of this king. He was a gambler, he made great gains by knowing people's faces, guessing intent and personality, and this man's face inspired unease, a confidence that if Taiga insulted or displeased him, it would be deeply regretted and likely the last thing he ever did.<br/><br/><i>Oh, no,</i>Taiga thought, keeping his face blank as he was pulled down, the links of his chain slid over a hook in the floor. Really, such a design! People must be constantly tripping themselves over this thing.<br/><br/>Luckily, kneeling was something Taiga was familiar with, and he made a point stay graceful and show no strain, even though his head was bowed from the way they chained him and it took longer than he wished for the king's requested audience to come together.<br/><br/>The king smiled like a hound rolls back its lips to bare its teeth. No love lost there, Taiga thought, watching the interaction between father and son.<br/><br/>When they were left mostly alone, it was hard to look at his new owner with his aching neck like this, but he felt the glare. That kind of anger could turn to violence. He needed to disarm that.<br/><br/>"Sir," he said, his voice careful, "T'is a bit uncomfortable to be hooked here. Would you be willing to unhook me?"<br/><br/>He phrased it like he didn't expect any protest, low and obliging, friendly but reverential. In short, calculated to shift himself in Astor's mind from a weapon used somehow to harm him into a fellow being who needed his benevolence and protection. People liked to feel benevolent. It was just the right cross-section of ego-stroking philanthropy and superiority.