"Ah, oui! Death becomes you," adds Alexandrie, although she will not turn back around. That is what makes these visits tolerable; knowing that she still walks the earth while Rolant's perfect shell has rotted away to finally match his soul. She hopes the Chantry is right, and the putrefaction of it vanished to nothing. She hopes the Chantry is wrong, and that he wanders the Fade tormented by demons. "You truly ought to have tried it earlier."

"And a little growl from him as well!" Exclaims Rolant, ignoring Alexandrie's rejoinder and slinging a casually proprietary arm around her shoulders. He rests his chin on the top of her head as a vantage point from which to continue to regard Byerly. Raises his eyebrows and affects thoughtfulness, "You've never so much as raised hackles to defend yourself in your life. Well. Save the once. But even then it was all for that lovely little sister of yours, wasn't it?" He pauses, and then gasps with dramatic realization, shifting his eyes to look briefly down towards Alexandrie and then back up. "Can it be? My darling! He still comes to your defense even after everything you've done!" The man looks approving, gleeful in a way that stops just before it becomes truly vicious. "You really ought to keep your obscene desire for debasement in bed where it belongs, my good man." He quirks a brow languidly, his smile widening as if the two of them are the best of friends sharing a joke. "Unless, of course, it pleases you better to have us all watch. In which case, you really ought to have stayed with her."

Now her shoulders raise, despite herself, hands fisting in her skirts. Rolant chuckles indulgently and turns his face to kiss her head. "You're awful at this, mon petite. Love makes you weak." He sighs with terrible sadness and turns back towards Byerly, his cheek resting partway in her curls without disturbing them at all. "I thought I taught you a better lesson than that."