Nothing was wrong, and yet, Albedo would speak of apologies. He would place himself at fault for something he had no hand in, for a task another had forced upon him. Frowning, Nigredo raised his head and stared evenly. {Don't,} he gave.

Don't apologize to him. His life belonged to his brother, and he-- {I owe you everything.} And apologies did not exist, not from this source.

As for the purposed cure, Albedo gave facts Nigredo had considered but ultimately overlooked for the end result. It was foolish, he knew, but the boy supposed he could be excused given what he currently was. Sickness had little room for caution. He nodded, solemn, albeit it came with an addendum.

"I wouldn't mind," Nigredo said. "If that becomes the only option, I wouldn't be adverse."