His mouth firms, but shows no other outward sign of a hit. Instead, he bypasses the first remark entirely, striding easily to the second as calmly as he lifts his head to study the passers-by around them: their strange garb, their lack of weapons, no known sigil or color to lend him a clue to their whereabouts. "You're the one always looking for some other meaning in plain words, not me."

Still facing at an angle, he cuts his gaze to his brother. "What difference could it make? If regrets and forgiveness could undo mistakes of the past, well...we'd all be in a very different world, now, wouldn't we?"

But they are.

And perhaps he is.

But it changes nothing. Tyrion would kill him, if given the chance and the opportunity, he has no doubt.

It's a shame, but not a surprise.