Jeremy
Kharlyle Whylder 
Outskirts Of Whylderholm Proper

"I'm glad you're thinking ahead, but the overconfidence is a problem. Only the cautious and unconfident survive in Northwind, not those who attempt to swindle an enormous slave empire straight to their face" Kharlyle tried to forget about the past, but he honestly wasn't sure what Rhoderick was expecting out of this. "And I don't know what exactly you're trying to escape from? Do you honestly think you have a better chance on the once-fields of the Blackened North than at my godsdamn estate?"
Frankie
Lord Albert Rhoerick
Outskirts of hylerholm Proper

He swore. "I wasn't swindling anyone out of anything. It seems to me that you're now the one swindling me! You're taking me against my will to force me to sign over my lands, while you yourself have no intent of giving anything in return." Rhoderick glared at Kharlyle, his eyes flashing angrily from behind a mask of now-dried blood. "But I'm not sure I'll survive at your goddamn estate either, given that you're an absolute fucking loon."
Jeremy
Kharlyle Whylder 
Outskirts of Whylderholm Proper

Kharlyle was beginning to have fun with this, a seldom occasion for him these days. 
"Ah-ah-a, *Seems*, seems is the key word. It *Seems* Like we're swindling you, you're honestly really fucking us over right now" Kharlyle paused yet once again, and his tone dissipated "And Can we *Try* Not to use that word, the L-word? I'm not sure if you meant it, but it came off as quite rude"
Frankie
Lord Albert Rhoderick
Outskirts of Whylderholm Proper 

Kharlyle really was crazy. He had to be! That really was the only explanation for this sort of behavior, and some part of Rhoderick couldn't help but feel that he had made a terrible mistake. 
But maybe... Maybe a lunatic was what the throne of Northwind needed. Perhaps that was what Rhoderick needed. Certainly, he needed people around him that weren't afraid to get their hands dirty. But Kharlyle seemed a bit unstable... 
"If the shoe fits, fucking wear it," Rhoderick snapped, then tilted his head so that he could wipe away a few droplets of blood from near his eyes. It didn't really matter that it would stain his shirt, as blood had already flown freely from the carving and soaked all down his front anyway. Fuck propriety. Fuck manners. 
As he did this, he paused to think, and when he finally spoke again, his voice was a bit more civil and coaxing. "I'd love to figure how I'm possibly fucking you over."