[A thought sticks like a quill in his brain and, suddenly, he's more awake than he's been the entire night.]

...What if I knew very well what it was I was doing?

[He asks, while absently thumbing a scar seaming his belly. There's a pause, then, like he's hoping Hector to weigh in, to struggle to prove otherwise and realize he can't.]

With every passing day I watched you from afar... [he wets his lips, dreamily musing aloud] ...I would conjure up novel ways of torturing you within an inch of your life, only to heal your wounds and start anew. I wondered how long I could keep you alive before you broke in my hands like a child's toy and could no longer recognize yourself in the mirror. Do you know how very long I contemplated taking you by force well before the curse fed my deepest, blackest desires?

[He laughs to himself, though his smile doesn't reach his eyes.]

You said it yourself: you know not what it is I'm capable of. Who is to say I would not leave you adrift, were disaster to strike? 'tis in my means to teleport, after all. You, on the other hand... would be utterly helpless.