[Gilles is momentarily distracted from her question by her grace, and her beauty. He stares at her, transfixed, before he remembers himself.
Part of him believes he should resist these urges, but at the same time, he feels endlessly drawn to them. He is powerless to resist them. He aches with it. His memory of Jeanne and of Charles' coronation burns within him. He hardly knows what to think anymore.
Can this creature--this demon--understand? Can anyone? He does not know.]
They are senseless beasts. They do not understand despair. So their pain has no taste.
no subject
Part of him believes he should resist these urges, but at the same time, he feels endlessly drawn to them. He is powerless to resist them. He aches with it. His memory of Jeanne and of Charles' coronation burns within him. He hardly knows what to think anymore.
Can this creature--this demon--understand? Can anyone? He does not know.]
They are senseless beasts. They do not understand despair. So their pain has no taste.