Lordling? [Isaac scoffs, though he isn't affronted enough to deny Hector the room to settle beside him. He shifts, grudgingly.] I would be lord at the least... and order my enemies to be hanged by their entrails from the trees surrounding my castle, as an example to the others.

[He lets the image wash over him, rolling onto his back after a moment and filling his lungs with a long, sleepy breath and feeling joints pop up alone his backbone.]

For that cheek of yours, you would be first man I would have bent and flogged. By my own hand, of course... [Wetting his lips, he turns his head from the ceiling and looks hazily into Hector's face.] ...for I would not leave to my subjects a task so deeply personal.