[Her response, which should incite anger, does the opposite. He offers her the briefest flicker of a smirk, reaching up to wipe the blood from his cheek and between two of his fingers.]
Is that what they say?
[His head tilts, as if he's expecting an actual response from her. Oh yes -- he was quite mad indeed. He hadn't always been that way, of course...not that anyone alive in Westeros would be able to confirm that. For all his mother tried, she'd been told she was mad with grief, that it wasn't her fault, that some men were just born that way.
A curse from the Seven. Sometimes it was good to hear, that people accepted the symbol he'd made for himself. There was no room for regret that way.]
no subject
Is that what they say?
[His head tilts, as if he's expecting an actual response from her. Oh yes -- he was quite mad indeed. He hadn't always been that way, of course...not that anyone alive in Westeros would be able to confirm that. For all his mother tried, she'd been told she was mad with grief, that it wasn't her fault, that some men were just born that way.
A curse from the Seven. Sometimes it was good to hear, that people accepted the symbol he'd made for himself. There was no room for regret that way.]