Hiram had been caught by Drystan while he was in the middle of...something. Doing something to someone and with a certain kind of vengeful zeal. Thus he listened, but with little interest, and at the end of what his cousin had to say Hiram offhandedly told him,

"Do it. Bring the witch back here while you're at it. You could sift, or you could just take the source and bleed it of its information." He smiled mockingly, as if that solution had been obvious and Drystan's suggestion to do something less effective was cute.

Hiram sighed as he looked at his cousin. Always the schemer. Always halfway playing the game, halfway breaking the rules. Why couldn't more Eldouirs be like Hiram? He didn't only broke the rules, but he rewrote the game. There were too many opportunities to die in this life for him to play it safe or to try to be smart about things. He came in, and he came in hard, and he'd kill anyone or anything that twitched the wrong way.

"I know a thing or two about the king of Nevermere." He said the words with a curled lip, a scoff in his tone, as Cassian Rainecourt was a spineless bastard in Hiram's book. "If he sent people here, they know what we want to know. And if they don't?" He shrugged. "Kill em. It's not that hard."

"They realize we know what?" Hiram snapped, golden gaze narrowing on Drystan. "That their attention is now on us? That it's very likely that Nevermerean witches will infiltrate at some point to attack all that we have built here?" He stepped towards his cousin as he spoke. "You know what? If you want to sit on your hands and possibly get killed by her or another witch or their army when they come--because they will come--then be my guest. Fuck it. You handle this situation." He turned his head and spat to the side, a wonder he didn't do it in Drystan's face.

"I don't wanna hear any shit apology from you when it turns out I'm right. Don't come crawling back ashamed. Die, and kill as many of them as you do."

Hiram wasn't moving towards Drystan to threaten him. He was doing it for practical reasons--to be able to reach him more easily if he decided his dear old cousin needed some physical reforming.

"And you're an idiot if you don't think it's a possibility." He knew already that Drystan was going to lose. This was an opportunity, and he was botching it. But then, everyone needed a change to fail so that they could see how much they needed Hiram.

"What do you think you will do in Nevermere?" He asked, only morbidly curious, not sincere.

Hiram scoffed at Drystan, unconvinced, but also unconcerned with arguing further.

"Then do it." His words were dismissive. This conversation was over, as far as he was concerned.