Gilbert made a noise that sounded like agreement or understanding in the back of his throat before suddenly reaching out and dragging Arthur across the desk by his collar. “Now you fucking listen to me, Brows,” he said lowly, dangerously. “I don’t know what the fuck’s going on over here, but my current boss only needs a reason, any goddamned excuse to come and invade your sorry tea-swilling ass. I’m more than perfectly willing to make your sister that excuse; it would be so good for my reputation, helping a Nation escape your grasp every century or so. Can you imagine how popular that would make me, and how weak that would make you look, hm?”