[ But Sylvain tugs him back, holding tight to his hand, his other arm snaking around Claude’s waist as he glances down at him with a slight frown. He searches Claude’s face, the moonlight casting long shadows across his features.

There’s so much layered in those words, but again, he’s not sure how much of it -if any - is safe to prod at. But he can guess. He knows too much not to be able to piece together some idea of what Claude’s referring to. Which is infuriating, honestly, and he wishes he knew who it was so he could return the favor with a blade through their cowardly guts.

Lifting his hand, he slides his fingers along Claude’s jaw this time. Struggling with his own emotions, but pushing it aside for now. The fact that Claude hadn’t laughed this off was telling enough in itself. ]

I guess I can’t blame you, in that case. Although usually when I get accused of having my own motives, it’s often for far more scandalous reasons.

[ He wishes he could give Claude promises to reassure him, but despite everything, he’s not sure how much weight his word actually holds. Besides, when it comes to loyalty, he’s always thought actions spoke louder anyway. Promises were all too easily broken. ]

For what it’s worth, I’m far more likely to pester you with terrible innuendo about weapons than actually using one on you. [ Not wanting to completely ruin the mood, he lets his hand drop away from Claude’s cheek as he gets them walking again. ] Then again, between your shaft and my spear, the possibilities there are conveniently endless.