[ It's perhaps a mark of his maturity - or perhaps how easily his anger could be sated with destroying furniture - that he's able to rein himself in enough not to immediately respond to Zhongli's comment with physical violence.

But it's telling, the way his fingers curl into a fist over the table and the way he sits - because he does, inevitably, sit, all but throwing himself into the chair opposite Zhongli like he wants to break that, too - with an undercurrent of violence hidden beneath his actions.

To someone as old as Zhongli, perhaps he appears more like a child on the verge of throwing a tantrum. ]

Is it not your name? Rex Lapis is what your people call you. I'm sure you're well aware, I am not one of your people. So you are Morax to me.

[ There's meaning behind his sharper smile, the way his eyes harden and chill like the everlasting storms surrounding Snezhnaya. He's emphasizing the divide between them, burning the olive branch and stamping it to embers without a second thought. He's still a diplomat here, and a heavily disliked one, at that, so his options for retribution are fairly limited until he gets transferred out of the city.

It's unsurprising that his tea remains untouched. ]

You've played me for a fool and yet you still want to play at being my friend. I nearly drowned your precious harbor, and you invite me out for tea. I'm tired of your games, Morax; if there's something you want, just say it. It's the least you could do, after all your schemes.