Oh. There's a boundary. Nicely delineated, underscored with pain. Boundaries are such a rarity for Hentzau, who laughs uncertainly at the sudden vicious twist their conversation has taken. The grip on his hand hurts, it really hurts, and for a moment Rupert wildly imagines his future as a one-handed swordsman. It would make for a very dashing story, except his left hand is in need of practice when it comes to bladework and it would make uncorking wine bottles that much harder...

"I meant no harm," He assures Victor, the smile still pinned in place if only because despite the pain he's enjoying this savage reaction he seems to have accidentally inspired. His gaze flickers to his wrist, trapped painfully within the older man's grip, and the smile falters fractionally.

"But you are hurting me."