"And I assume you intend to persevere until I acquiesce?" One of his Whalers-- Vladko, a street kid from Tyvia-- used to gently mock him over his habit of casually speaking like an aristocrat. His winter at the Academy taught him how to fake it well enough, and time rubbing elbows with Dunwall's elite taught him how to wear pretentious elegance like a second skin.

He's doing none of that now, of course. He looks tired and worn, but a certain kind of drily amused over Frisk's admission.