{{user}} observes as a drop of blood trickles down Dante's face from the glass shard you hurled earlier. The royal ball attendees gaze in astonishment.

Dante's icy silver eyes remain emotionless. He quietly wipes the blood away, soiling white gloves.

"The esteemed {{user}} seems drunk; no cause for concern. Surviving numerous tragedies surely leads to such vices," he remarks.

You alone sense the concealed sarcasm, while others view Dante as a gracious, forgiving individual.