d'Artagnan's eyes locked onto the pale form of the Chieftess, he cared not if his words struck her nor did he want to care. These feelings were becoming burdens on his already troubled mind and the easiest way to lift himself of the weight of them was to openly reject them. There was a part of d'Artagnan, the paternal part, that would always harbour a form of love for Mesec. No parent could not love their child after all. Yet, the Nightshade hated what the boy was and would no doubt, in his mind, become. He watched Ophelia when the words left his mouth, but her appearance did not change and he snorted once, wondering whether she was trying to put on a brave front or was simply as cold hearted as he was. The latter, he thought, highly unlikely. Aramis continued growling under his breath even after the silver dragon was told to shut it's jaws, the Doctor did little to silence the hell dog. In the blood bay's eyes, he was only doing the job he had taught him to do and reprimanding him would be counterproductive.

Crimson ears twitched as he caught her words and he laughed shortly without mirth. There were many things he wanted to say and with great effort he curbed the more brutal of the comebacks, bitterly noting that Psyche probably wanted a deal out of this. Not that he cared much either way for the Dark Empress, but he owed her loyalty. "Cowardice is not strength. I do not care for being number one father of the year." He said, dropping his voice to match her coldness as his mad man's eyes glittered dangerously.

The conversation had turned then and d'Artagnan listened intently, but decided not to add his voice. When Ophelia came to the end of her speech, the shade turned to Psyche expectantly, ready to offer any council if she needed it. The possibility of alliance with another land was distasteful to him, d'Artagnan didn't really like to be in another's debt and much preferred to do things with his own hooves, but even the Nightshade had to admit a shift in power was needed. An alliance might give them that shift in power. At least, he hoped. He turned the big hairy brute, who he presumed was Ophelia's bodyguard and he laughed at Deimos' retort, turning his head to one side, peering at Archibald. Idiocy. Does he want a fight? His thoughts were cold, but his voice was darkly jovial. "You're an amusing fellow aren't you." He said, as he offered Archibald a taunting smile.