Dorian stays silent through that little speech, a little surprised despite himself. He was almost certain things would have gone in one of two directions: either the Bull brushed him off again, tried to avoid speaking of Dorian's necromancy altogether, or else he would finally air all of his grievances. There would probably be many. There tended to be, as far as necromancy was concerned.

Dorian has a speech prepared, filled with a thousand different little reassurances, about the specific differences between necromancy and blood magic. It's a good speech. He's had to use it several times, to varying degrees of efficacy.

No need for it, apparently, and Dorian feels himself relaxing a little – not entirely relieved, but at least glad that this won't sour what goodwill has developed between the two of them. Dorian has a few things he'd like to say about the Bull's trust (is it entirely warranted?) or his continued insistence that Dorian is a good man (he is selfish and stubborn and far too proud, sometimes), but that's another argument entirely.

"Be sure to emphasize how impressive I was," he says, putting on his usual arrogance. "Perhaps a few comments about how fearsome and handsome I looked, silhouetted by flame. That should be sufficiently florid enough."