He chuckled lightly and slipped a hand to Jiro's neck. Softly, his fingers worked the muscles to relax them and ease the tension the warrior supposed might be there. His other arm looped tightly around the young man's waist as he debated whether or not to take his thoughts and make them into reality. "Do you have any objections to my thoughts Jiro?" Spoken softly the room seemed to fill with them all the same. Desmond felt himself becoming wary all of a sudden, that perhaps something wasn't quite right.

"Please, my prince, tell me that all of this is true." He was a royal. Royals did what they had to do in order to reach their goals. Desmond couldn't quite put to rest the sudden suspicion that perhaps, he was nothing more then a convenient tool which had once been an annoyance. It was a small thought, not very big at all.