[His eyes widen, the rictus grin receding to a surprised little mou before he throws his head back in wild, half mad laughter, almost painful to listen to, like broken glass.]
Ah, a daughter. How perfect. How symmetrical. I will follow her best of all.
[The laughter dies down to a low chuckle.] But proof, Draculina, proof. [The brush of his words against her ear, against her mind, those his mouth does not move] I need more than your word.
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Ah, a daughter. How perfect. How symmetrical. I will follow her best of all.
[The laughter dies down to a low chuckle.] But proof, Draculina, proof. [The brush of his words against her ear, against her mind, those his mouth does not move] I need more than your word.