There. There, at last, the boy's admitting to reason. Which suggests he isn't so foolhardy or frenzied as rumors - and as some of Daud's Whalers - would imply. (It doesn't suggest anything of the sort, really. It'd taken too long to coax the boy to this point. Had taken the unrelenting words of a master assassin to draw out a simple 'I know.' Well, so the boy's prideful. Fearless. It might not be ideal, but Daud can work with it. He tells himself.) Daud continues to watch Oscar for several long moments, letting the boy's admission hang in the air.

"Well."

What'll it be, boy?