Mendoza was not accustomed to hearing irritation from those outside of his council. Men he'd known for years, and whose voices he'd encouraged to deliver honesty, even if sometimes disrespectful. Orsa had not yet earned the privilege of such things being overlooked however, and he turned away from the cage and it's captive monster to consider him with disapproval.<br/><br/>"Do not make me regret my decision, Battistiano. You came to me seeking a safe place to practice your arts, something I<i>can</i>provide to you if I am so inclined. In time, we will see if the fruits of your efforts are worthy of this risk I take, but until then, you will remember whom it is you address." A single warning, one he might not have been required to give if he had permitted guards in the cells with them who would have automatically cuffed Orsa for his insolence. Still, he did not dwell on the crazed man's attitude. It was obvious he was frayed, dancing, teetering on the edge of exhaustion and ready to crack, and he had proven himself capable of considerable accomplishment in a span of time entirely inadequate.<br/><br/>The King regarded the settled beast, and Orsa's warning that it might in time turn on<i>him</i>if he did not take due care, but found himself undeterred. The devastation they could wreak upon his enemies, the panic they would induce, were a risk worth taking. It appeared Rafael would be pleased after all.<br/><br/>"We will discuss the components of your creatures on the morrow. Quarters will be prepared for you above the construction room where you completed the majority of your work, and we will see about having caging prepared for any newly awoken creations. Something custom to larger designs, I think." It appeared he was not going to dismiss the request for more varied parts, that he had, perhaps, even more ambitious notions than Orsa. "Your next project however, I mean to have input on. These will be war machines, and I have specific tasks in mind we will need to discuss. Be ready to attend to me when I send for you." What time that would be, he did not specify. Mendoza was not inclined to a set schedule, as much to keep his men on their toes as to have ultimate control over his time. Unpredictability made him dangerous, and made it more difficult for potential assassins to predict his movements.<br/><br/>He turned back to the necromancer and studied him more closely. An attempt to see beyond the stains of exhaustion and fanatical obsession. Perhaps he would look less like a mad thing, if removed from his craft for a day or so. "You have performed satisfactorily," he told him, and though the words themselves could not be considered the praise Orsa had hoped for, it was inferred by tone instead. Perhaps as much by the large, tawny hand that touched his shoulder in passing as he returned to the stairs. He had much to think about. And some courtier to kick out of his room.