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  • "Can I at least..."
  • The restraints around his hands, torso, and feet tighten, conveying the Maestro's response. Klade clenches his jaw, wincing at the pain that is worsened by that movement, a stark reminder of his overwhelming weakness and what could very well befall him if he tries to leave again. Just you wait, you swaddled, cod-mouthed dollop head! There's always a next time, and I'll be damned if I let you play me like a fool again! If it wasn't for your identity, I'd have taught you a lesson you'd never forget.
  • If the Maestro hears Klade's thoughts, he does a good job of ignoring it, like the cow would ignore the buzzing of flies on its tail. He cannot be bothered to assuage his doubts any more than he already has. As long as he plays his part, nothing else matters. After all, he was simply told to keep the young demon alive- there was no mention of coddling or convenience of any sort.
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