Is this some form of blood magic? But the man has a shard, so is it... shard... magic? He sounds like a commoner.
How revolting.

"I don't take orders from you," Benedict finds himself saying, shuddering with the bewilderment of essentially telling that to himself, "especially seeing as it's you who has my face." This is idiotic, he knows it, but with someone of his upbringing it only stands to reason that discomfort moves quickly to incredulity.
"Are you a demon? I don't have time for this."