Bakura exhaled a bark of cold amusement at Ravel's relay of what Valdis had said. "She could have at least tried to dupe you with something believable," the thief scoffed. "She'd sooner take Yunxu himself to her bed, than take an interest in me that way."

He didn't miss the briefness of Erskine's humour, nor how quickly it died back to nothing. Still a ways to go, before he put himself back to any kind of rights. "Stay here tonight," he said, and it was somewhere firmer than a suggestion, but less than an order. He wouldn't force Ravel to stay if the man didn't want to, too conscientious of his own reaction if that situation had been reversed, but neither was he offering it as merely out of politeness or lip service.

"She said she made a choice that hurt you."

Bakura is silent for a moment, as if contemplating how to answer that, or whether it would need some of his subpar wine to precede it.

"We do that, both of us. We are too many teeth and claws, and too little humility. It's not the first time, nor likely the last."