[ He rubs his chin thoughtfully at that. That's good. ]
Then he's gaining a bit of mettle, it seems. When he first came to me, he vacillated widely between defiance and fear. What were the slights in question?
[Oh Byerly, you had to ask. For a long moment, Gabranth is silent. For longer still, in fact, as he exhales thinly through his nose in steeling preparation to deliver his own recount of events in the most distant and unfeeling way possible.]
He disrespectfully dismissed me before the Orlesian nobility when I came to collect him in order to prepare him for the battle ahead. [Slight one.] He then insulted me in private, disregarding my attempts at reinforcing the gravity of what we had been sent to do. [Slight two.
The last takes a beat longer to dislodge:]
...He then struck me in the eye, when I proposed that he dissolve our association if it was so undesired.
[It would do Benedict no good to be dragged any further through his own misdeeds, as far as Gabranth is concerned.] The matter of his indemnity is seen to. His apologies were sincere.
Had I suspected anything less, I would not be standing here before you now, suing for good faith in his name.
All the more reason to plea grace if so, for I am a man of difficult temperament, and I suffered no injury beyond pride.
[This, perhaps predictably, is said objectively. He's lived too long in his role as Judge, jury, executioner, and so on and so forth to let bias sink its claws into his verdicts unless they relate to his brother which right now they do not, though what chases it is far, far milder in tone:]
The most likely punishment, given what you've said, is scrubbing our facilities. [ Bathroom facilities, obviously, given the way he says that word. ] A bit of grime under his nails may make him keep a rather more civilized hand.
Worry not, my opinion of you will reach the ears of no other.
[Aside from Beth, of course, when he'd told her you were a good man as well. Alas.]
Mm. [It isn't likely to breed resentment, a task like that, he supposes. No more than a little sting, easily moved past.] And what of his recompense for the rest of his work? A job well done needs praise as much as a poor hand begs punishment.
[It seems confusion is, in fact, capable of being read even through the guise of an emotionless mask, if only for how Gabranth’s immediate head tilt paints the image of a hound unsettled.]
I hold no sway in this world. What merit does my own approval afford him?
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[ He rubs his chin thoughtfully at that. That's good. ]
Then he's gaining a bit of mettle, it seems. When he first came to me, he vacillated widely between defiance and fear. What were the slights in question?
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He disrespectfully dismissed me before the Orlesian nobility when I came to collect him in order to prepare him for the battle ahead. [Slight one.] He then insulted me in private, disregarding my attempts at reinforcing the gravity of what we had been sent to do. [Slight two.
The last takes a beat longer to dislodge:]
...He then struck me in the eye, when I proposed that he dissolve our association if it was so undesired.
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He what!
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This is hardly a laughing matter, Byerly.
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[ hee hee hee ]
Were you even able to feel it? I've eaten pease porridge with more bite than the boy.
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...it was not a punch.
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[ He mimes a tiny little slap. Then he crooks his hand into claws and makes a kittenish little scratching gesture. ]
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When you typically aim to blind someone, think about the movement you would employ.
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But yes.]
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[The other guesses remain no less rude either, but Gabranth won't bother to remind him of that fact.]
The matter is dealt with, however. It need not be brought up again.
[Translation: do not bring this up again.]
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[It would do Benedict no good to be dragged any further through his own misdeeds, as far as Gabranth is concerned.] The matter of his indemnity is seen to. His apologies were sincere.
Had I suspected anything less, I would not be standing here before you now, suing for good faith in his name.
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The boy is under my command. And to strike a fellow soldier in anger is a serious breach of discipline.
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I am the offended party, am I not? My stake in this matter must also hold weight.
[A beat, and then, for the sake of respect:]
Still, if you were to punish Lord Artemaeus, I must ask what you would see fit to enforce.
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I suppose that depends on how much injury he did you, and how much you'd done beforehand to rouse his temper.
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[This, perhaps predictably, is said objectively. He's lived too long in his role as Judge, jury, executioner, and so on and so forth to let bias sink its claws into his verdicts
unless they relate to his brother which right now they do not, though what chases it is far, far milder in tone:]As you said, the man is frail in force.
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You are hardly my subordinate.
...or a man so feckless as you once claimed.
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I'm utterly feckless.
[ How dare you. Anyway - ]
The most likely punishment, given what you've said, is scrubbing our facilities. [ Bathroom facilities, obviously, given the way he says that word. ] A bit of grime under his nails may make him keep a rather more civilized hand.
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[Aside from Beth, of course, when he'd told her you were a good man as well. Alas.]
Mm. [It isn't likely to breed resentment, a task like that, he supposes. No more than a little sting, easily moved past.] And what of his recompense for the rest of his work? A job well done needs praise as much as a poor hand begs punishment.
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[It seems confusion is, in fact, capable of being read even through the guise of an emotionless mask, if only for how Gabranth’s immediate head tilt paints the image of a hound unsettled.]
I hold no sway in this world. What merit does my own approval afford him?
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