Fate?

[Trevor's smirk has a tendency to soften with sentimentality. It's a subtle change, and it's easy to miss for anyone who's seen it less-frequently than Adrian and Sypha do. He hands over the cane but holds onto the torch, and his bare hand chances a too-lingering-to-be-accidental brush of Adrian's as he secures his glove again.

Now comes the real sport: finding their way out of this maze. Trevor thinks he remembers the way, hopes he can lead them out. If all else fails, Adrian can find the way for them, but Trevor will be damned if he gives the dhampir more ammunition for exactly why he shouldn't have come down here alone. No. And Trevor certainly looks far more assured than he feels when he starts back toward the narrower bit of corridor they'd come from.]

So that's what you call two strangers breaking into your keep, interrupting your slumber and assuming themselves into your life? As you will.

[Trevor's tone is decidedly gentle, for all its teasing. He won't bother fooling himself about it; he's glad Adrian sees it that way. Not an annoyance or a mistake. Simply what was supposed to happen.]