[ the bare-boned acknowledgment stirs, again, the antagonism in the pit of his gut. Diarmuid knows so little of the man who razed Kayneth's dreams to dust, but what he knows, he can hardly abide by.

not that his personal feelings matter much, not in the long run. what the resigned set of the man's shoulders is saying, in not so many words, is that they have nothing to discuss. even the seals on his hand seem like an afterthought.

Diarmuid frowns. ]

—But you're aware of it. [ which is enough— it's all Diarmuid needs to know. ] I see.

[ and he'd be content to leave it at that, really. but, a beat later: ] ...I have no intention of harming you. There would be no reward in cutting down a turned back.