Even with her trying to soothe his nerve, the bottle of blood sat on the table only feet away, and he hadn't a clue how it had been filled. He didn't expect her to kill him. If she wanted to, she would have killed him 20 times over by now. But the crimson liquid that roiled in that very container wasn't known to him, was it a human's blood? Had it been the blood of one of the loyal knights who'd fought in the war, under his father's name and order? The day of adventure had been a humanizing one. He'd nearly lost the thought of being a treaty in the mysticism of the ruins, the freedom on horse back.<br/><br/>He drew his eyes to the food with a short smirk.<i>It wasn't even horseback, </i>he scolded himself. Nothing made him question Elara's loyalty or her words, she'd ended the war with his people via treaty, and hadn't mistreated him in even a slight fashion since his captivity. She'd even gone as far as to accommodate to his whims, bringing in such elegant food, when she didn't even need to feed him a rotted piece of bread, be it her wish.<br/><br/>"I don't mean to spit in the face of your generosity Elara, but your meal has made my appetite fade considerably. To be quite honest, I'm not sure what blood is in that bottle, hopefully not whom's. I know you mean no harm, but even the smell of the blood makes me remember what your kind does on a battlefield." He realized the longer he talked, the more regal he sounded, almost as if he were trying to diplomatically resolve an issue with Elara. The vampiress was just that, and he wouldn't be able to kindly ask her to starve to death. He knew as much, but the more he thought about what was in that bottle, the more he realized even the fullest feast for him wouldn't make that bottle a thought to be forgotten.<br/><br/>"I assure you Elara that I have no doubts of your words, I know I'm safe under your arm. It's just not every war can be won with a treaty, and the mind is the worst battleground of all."