Jannus rolls his eyes, "Pirren, yes? Self-important, uptight, irritating, know-it-all..." He sighs heavily, his shoulders slumping a bit, "Nevermind. Come in."
The normally luxuriously appointed room looks to have been occupied by drunken mercenaries for many days. A mess of clothing, food, various drinks, and other unidentifiable things litters the room and stains the carpets.
Lord Ezra himself is apparently passed out, half on, half off the grand bed, his generous gut poking out of his undergarments. He struggles to a wobbly sitting position, "Jannush don't shpeak ill of your bruvver like that. He'sh the one who gave up the chance to compete for my title so you could."
Jannus rolls his eyes where Estelle can see but Ezra can't, "As you continually remind me, father. There's a messenger here to see you, milord."
"Oh, well, let'sh shee then." Ezra squints blearily at Estelle and raises a meaty hand to motion her over.