Or her icy hold would disappear entirely and we would find ourselves cursed with summer. A terrible fate, truly.

[But he'll concede if Aymeric pushes the matter further. As for the second part, Estinien glances away, his mouth thinning to a line as he mulls over his next words.

He likes not this situation, but he cannot say he much liked many situations he's found himself in since his childhood, how is this much different?]

Fight? Nay. Convince, perhaps. If you truly needed my assistance, Aymeric, I would not turn you down, even if what you required of me is little and less what I find desirable.