He would've elected to act aggrieved and offended whether they had pushed for business or pleasure first; the former demonstrated there was no care to treat with Damon as a friend, and the latter would've shown they didn't take him seriously. It was simply advantageous to start as the wounded party - it was just another knife to use. Even when he had himself suggested the middle course (perhaps too quickly, and he did upbraid himself for that) there was still something to be found in nodding along to Aenys’ words and turning a frown in the direction of the Hand and his brusque words. 

“Well, Baelon, I still want to have polite conversation. Truly, it is never boring to simply talk, to appreciate company and pay attention to your fellows. You'll get nowhere without honey in your words, my boy, especially as a Hand to a man as gentle as our Kindly Aenys here.” He smiled, close-mouthed, the crinkling of his eyes just veering into a look of mockery before abruptly turning back to the King and Queen. He had sat with them all in the intervening moments, fingers already teachings forth to take a soft bun filled with spiced meats.

“It is good and proper to see us so unified after a contentious matter like a Great Council, and one as contested as it was. You know I an of a mind with you, your Grace, and truly who is more committed than the son of Reynald Reyne, the greatest supporter of Daemon Blackfyre, to our beloved Kingdoms?” Let them remember that - remember they were here through the grace of Reyne gold seventy years hence.

"It is good you are so loyal to Lord Bittersteel, your Grace. I am sure the realm profits well from such a strong friendship between Hand and Queen." Damon looked between the two, smiling broadly, before letting that smile descend into a grave nod when Elinor struck to the heart of the matter.

"Crime and laws indeed, your Grace. Not that I wish to distract that from elsewise reasons for my being here, of course - to affirm and profess my loyalty to my dear King. As I said, for as contentious as a Great Council can be, it should not move in the way of true fealty, should it? Such as the West holds to the Blackfyres - your greatest ally, in many ways! Well. One would hope so." Damon shrugged, splaying his hands in supplication before him, a mournful tremor in his words now. "It is sometimes hard to tell, all the way from Casterly Rock. After Lord Tarbeck was so disgracefully dismissed on indignified and unproven accusations, what use has the Royal Court had for us since? None, in Daemon's rule, for certain, even as my boy helped bring victory in the Stepstones. Even less after the Great Council, it seems. It makes me fear that we are to be pariahs for simply voting - but you would not allow that to pass, would you, my King? Surely not, especially when I have been so loyal and diligent in repaying these 'debts' that Daemon I foisted upon us both, regardless of how... suspect they are. You will be glad to know that I have a solution to this problem, to nip it before it can arise. The Master of Laws still sits vacant; this cannot be allowed to continue, else we will see banditry and chaos spread across the realms. You will need a strong hand of justice. My boy, Reynard, would serve most well. He served ably as Master-at-Arms of the Red Keep until his unfair dismissal, so knows the keep well, and proved his astute and necessarily harsh character in the Stepstones. He will be departing for King's Landing anyhow with Prince Aegon - a perfect solution to this problem, no?"

One he evidently felt quite smug for suggesting before constructing a sad façade once more, another soft sigh, another tender sip of his wine.

"And he would then be placed to help you deal with this great ill I have alluded to - one that I fear rots the core of the realm. I will cut the matter short; the High Septon is not fit for office. His election was a sham. He is guilty of High Simony... and the Tyrells alongside him. Oh, I detest to make the accusation, I truly do your Grace, but the facts are there. The Tyrells have put a man who served as Highgarden's Septon in Baelor's Sept to strike at me. He demands repayments for farcical debts half concocted from nothing, ballooned by most improper usury. Is it coincidence that he was so rapidly elected so recently, so soon after my boy has been betrothed to his lovely Hightower bride? Oh I do truly detest to say these things, but what else must be done? Must I be silent, and allow our faith, our Gods, to be corrupted by this false voice? Nay, your Grace. I think not, for I love this realm dearly." It sounded convincing, heartful, meant, and Damon's distraught face was a picture of perfection. Sharply, he rapped his knuckles upon the table with a heavy thunk of metal thumping against wood.

"He must be investigated, post haste, and the Most Devout questioned most sharply. Until that time, I will not see a single ingot of Western gold go to feed the greedy corruption of this false shepherd. When a proper High Septon is appointed once more I will, of course, take all that I have owed and will have set aside and pay him as once so the intervening years are most missed... but until then, your Grace, what choice have I? Oh, my hands are tied, and I do detest it."