[Hector’s jaw clenches, and he focuses his attention on the arm he is washing- rivulets of soapy water snaking over the marked skin.]

Does it matter? I don’t want to kill a child of yours, but neither would I want to allow it to take what it wishes of me.

[The question for a question is a damning answer in itself. The tangled situation demon children present is real enough, though. He doesn’t want to be put in that situation.]