[ He hasn't known Sleipnir long enough to really feel exasperated, but here he is, staring flatly back. ]

Here to find out who or what's killing people in your house, not play with swords.

[ And he's free to read that full of innuendo: it won't change anything — partly because it would be a very stupid, very shit idea to even etertain whatever that look meant with the younger lord of the house paying him for this job, but even so.

He tips his chin at Sleipnir, turning away to indicate the conversation's end. ]

Would you mind getting those notes from your brother, or whoever might have them? I'm gonna look over the room.