Dragoncrest Cliffs I've never given in to madness, never given in to madness

He turned to regard her once more, and his eyes blazed with his truth. You do think so. You wouldn't have brought it up if you didn't. He had stood with Drageda against his family—unwittingly, of course, but nevertheless—and in so doing had unknowingly severed his ties to his blood. What more could they possibly ask of him? He'd come to them as a young boy. His indoctrination into their ways, while willing at the time, was not something he truly had any control over. Why couldn't she see it?

Because this is all she's ever known, he thought snidely, as she attempted to claim she didn't think little of him. I did speak to Verx, he allowed, with a snort. He didn't care. That was unfair. Vercingetorix surely did care, but the man was misguided and believed that no harm would come to them from Rusalka. Ephraim knew better, now, that the most dangerous of foes were those you underestimated. And with paranoia came fear, and with fear came exaggeration of an enemy's strength. He saw them as monsters, likely stronger than they really were, and it drove him to panic. If this is what you would call peace, then I am not the only fool.

It didn't really matter, though. Ephraim was too deep in his arrogance and his paranoia to be able to recognize Blixen's olive branch for what it was. The only thing he cared about was being shown enough respect to be let go, with the understanding that accepting Drageda's way of life had not been a choice he consciously made, and the understanding that not everyone was cut out for this life. He wasn't going to get that and he knew it. So he let her go without saying anything more, even if she spoke again.