In one fluid motion, my hand reached down to pick up my sword. Pulling Claidheamh an Ùrachaidh out of the sheath and aimed it at the offending voice. The purple aura trailed behind the sword as it came out of the sheath. The glowing runes, visible even in the bright room. "I would be careful with your next words. If you really think I would not protect her, you are wrong." The man in question, a man with graying hair in the Traditionalists section, was gobsmacked and fear stricken. He quickly nodded his head, allowing me to sheath my sword. "Good."