[ His expression, so stubbornly harried and wrought, softens just slightly. He had a duty to survive this, and also to ensure that Flayn did too.

It is a difficult promise to make (and impossible one, perhaps), but after a beat, he dips his chin, acquiescing. ]

Very well. I promise I will not die for you, Flayn. And neither will you, for my sake. [ And there is something strangely invigorating about that, to make someone swear they wouldn't fall on a sword for him. He can only hope that Flayn's oaths are true. ] You have my word. Let us both survive this, together.