Moonspear i’m on the dark side of a hollow hill

His words provoked a scoff from Dirge, who meant it in good faith and humor. He didn’t quite see it that way, that falling in line. There had never been a particular need of him to capitalize on his rank within Moonspear—Hydra more than likely saw to it with the way she often dropped his name with titling, with the pride that she exuded. But it meant more to her than he, perhaps; it was there that their raising was a very different thing. Her ambition was a right and his, well… his was perhaps more guileful.

“Be that as it may, a gentleman does not hide behind his wife,” though he had, in a sense, perhaps only to himself. “Your sister can like me all she wants but it’s a far easier go of things if I have the favor from the majority. You’ve all certainly been through enough and deserve more than being entrenched in hostilities constantly.”

He didn’t know that this was a cyclical sort of thing—it should have really been a family trait by now, if it wasn’t already. Not that he claimed those titles by any means either; he could have denied it all he wanted to, even to the point of duplicity in what he did and shared, but he was very much one of them too. It was inescapable.