He — I could not prevail on him to change his course, Haurchefant. I had thought...and yet, twas all for naught. My words fell on deaf ears.

[He says it like it's a failing of his own. Like if he'd only tried harder, been better, been more — as though his father the archbishop could ever have been persuaded at all.

Head lowered, he leans toward the potion bottle, his cheeks heating with the shame of being forced to try to drink without hands — but as Haurchefant says, he'll have him down soon.]

Forgive me. I failed you all.