You realize that requires a detailed assessment, not just...hearing a few words out of her mouth, yes?

[Alucard's back rests on the wall, his hand ghosting over the drafting table. This Belmont's Speaker companion must mean an awful lot if he's this protective. The way his fingers curl in his hair, it's familiar. Loving.

A horrible noise almost escapes Alucard's throat at that. Not the time. Not the place. Not the person to do it in front of.]

She won't protest at your death and being foisted off on some stranger?