Aulfr was sitting in his chair, taking a short nap. What he was dreaming about, he had no idea after waking up. He stretched a little bit, and then got up and walked back to his window. He watched the soldiers train for a short while, before his ears caught the distinct sound of the pool-tub draining in the other room. He waited several moments afterwards before turning; walking to the table, he pocketed a decently sized piece of white cloth. After, he walked up to the door, and stood straight in front of it, waiting. 

Not a minute later, Aleksandra reappeared. He listened with a calm, even slightly tender face- and it could be taken that he cared. He clasped his hands behind his back while she spoke, and waited for her to finish.

Then he paused after she finished, and stared down at her. Unclasping his hands from his back, he swung them absently, meeting in a small rubbing of hands in front of him twice. The third time, he didn't swing his arms back. He rubbed his hands together, grasped them together, and then released them.

A moment later, maybe before she could even blink, he socked her right in the nose, reminiscent to her own blow to his- even though his throw was significantly more powerful, hard enough to knock her comparatively fragile frame right back into the bathroom, sending her tumbling to the floor.

Stepping into the room with a now slightly-bloodied hand, he crouched down next to her. Whipping out the white cloth, he dabbed at her nose, wiping the blood away. Once he had cleaned her face, despite the fresh running blood, he reached forward and [i]snapped[/i]! it right back to its original position, setting it quickly and efficiently, without a thought to her wants for independence. Dabbing at her nose again, he finally spoke.

"Your brothers will be dead soon enough. I don't plan on leaving Ardany any more independent than you are now, if that. And- do not mistake me to be your equal. Ever. Next time, I'll break you."

He flashed her a quick smile, mixed in its signals. On one hand- it was a reassuring smile. On the other hand, the gleam in his eyes promised death, a cold insanity that rarely came out to play, hidden behind layer after layer after layer. It was such a brief gleam that she might have even taken it for a trick of the light, paranoia, or her own imagination.

Either way, he dabbed at her face some more. Then he stood, leaving the cloth on her face, and stepped calmly back into his room. 

"Come," was all he said, "You have things to report."