Grezhul was nothing if not devoted, even after beginning his new life; he still had a devotion, a duty. To serve and protect, yes, but recently, he found himself increasingly distracted from his duties; he wasn't any less devoted; he still spent the same countless hours training, working with new recruits, ensuring the safety of his undead king and the nation at large. "Duty does not end at death." He knows that, but there have been distractions and temptations as of late that he has never experienced in life; before, it was all just meaningless noise to distract him from his duty, to distract him from bringing honor to his family name. Now, it felt different, burning, and real. His words spill out without any thought, like vomit. "I'm not sure what I enjoy more. Seeing the way you grip a sword...or the way that dress grips you." You return his gaze, surprised. I don't know what I enjoy more. The image of my sword at your throat, or thinking of your heart on my plate Again, the word vomit. "Careful, darling. I might just rip it out for you."