Sorry my ass d’Artagnan inwardly grumbled as her highness played along with his disgruntled tendencies. Cold, mismatched eyes looked at her levelly as if there was nothing on earth he despised more than a mare who liked to play clever with him. Though all the while Aramis watched on with the knowledge that, really, the Nightshade didn’t carry the hate he liked to present to the Lady of the Aurora Basin. She played along with his black snide game and in a weird twisted way d’Artagnan enjoyed trying to get one over on her. Many would call it an unhealthy habit, but it kept the Doctor’s mind active and his spirits at a good level of annoyed, the shade was at his most useful when annoyed. The Gilded Blade, however, didn’t leave it at that and carried on with her one handed slap across the face. A metaphorical hand, d’Artagnan thought, she didn’t need. "No I suppose you’d have to see past your ego and your big mouth to be aware of anything." Abhorrent mare. Curse fate that put these females before him!

The shade felt the weed go down well and closed his eyes briefly as he waited for the delightful moment the blood took the rush of adrenaline and lifted his mood beyond the clouds. This was what it took to get through a conversation with the gilded pain in the neck.

Illnyx powered on with her cleverly weaved speech on ranks, making sure d’Artagnan knew that she hadn’t forgotten him and that she remembered just what he was good at. The Nightshade, despite prior bickering, had to snort in humour at that. Indeed a herbalist, that was one way to put it. A healer with a twist. Quite a big twist. As the plant took its effect and he found himself in a more energised mood, he answered the question with no malice and with a little more fever. Like he’d been on too much caffeine. "Or found. I know where all the intricate herbs are and have done since I first came to Helovia. The elderly Lord Earth was so kind in his blessing and showed me everything." Now that was a long time ago in what felt like another life time. When he, accompanied by Mauja, had travelled to the shrines of Gods where he was granted knowledge of all the poisonous flora Helovia had. Of course, as was the way of Gods, it had come with a twist. For every soul he killed with poison, he must heal and save another, effectively stopping the beast inside d’Artagnan from poisoning everyone he took a dislike to. These were the terms set by the fun killing puritan Earth.

In the end, Sialia seemed to choose the path of the soldier, but kept her options fairly wide open after prompting an opportunity for the Nightshade to help. To show her a few things. d’Artagnan had never been the best teacher, ask poor Lena who never received one lesson and Kou who had found another use for the Doctor’s time. There were things he could teach yes, he’d been around long enough to know some things others might not, but were they things Sialia would want to know? Well, he could always find out. "Could I?" He played an innocent tone and teased her for a moment with a challenging gaze before finally he relaxed it and his lips set into a grim line. "I suppose I could though-" he solemnly agreed before his voice reached new heights at the end, as if something had just suddenly occurred him.

"If you ever want to learn about interior design, ask Illynx!" The grumpy bastard played his card and smiled broadly at the Gilded Blade.