[ A sigh of breath that ruffles Angel's dark hair. Ilde stares off at nothing as she contemplates those words. They are true, even in the ways they are not... Castor is a brood of very fragile people, deeply injured and yet still struggling onwards. It is something that binds them all, the familiarity of their pain underneath even if they do not know everything about one another. Not yet. Ilde understands all this about her brood, that there is no coincidence to them, that they are all a little bit toxic. ]

They understand. [ Not precisely rejection of the sentiment, ] They understand our influence on one another.. Now. Now that I demonstrated how it can go wrong.

[ Complicated. She's not pleased with the results, but she also cannot apologize for reacting as she saw appropriate. The Prince continues to speak as though she did it simply to flout his law, and that rankles. ]