At Rabastan's words, Guilian allowed himself to mouth the word 'fuck'. He didn't show his displeasure. "Tagged and registered? That can't be conducive to international business?" He was Italian, and his owls were Italian, and he was sure his father would have something to say about that.
As he tried to apologise for the oversight (he really had been in no mind to pay heed to anything like a Ministry edict), he nodded. "Well, it was done, and unfortunately, the evidence was included." He alluded to the severed finger with the ring. The thought of it being in other hands did not go down well either. But at least he knew not to put his name on the owl, merely his initials.
He sat back, frustrated by this, but at least glad that Rabastan was aware of the work now being over. The waiter arrived with new drinks, and Guilian took comfort in just holding his glass, trying at least not to overdo things whilst Lestrange was around.
The question took him by surprise. Stimulating? He didn't answer straight away - he tried to find the right words, and for a moment stared out the window.
He took a long and slow sip of his drink before trying to consider his words. He saw the way Rabastan was looking at him, and wondered if he could lie. Could Lestrange do Legilimency? Could he lie? "Well, I have to admit I'm a little conflicted." He didn't sound accusatory, but did admit that he knew there was a conflict of right and wrong. He couldn't meet his eyes, however, when he admitted something of the truth. "There were moments..." He said, looking over at Lestrange and hoping he'd understand. Was he going to offer advice, or help.
"I'm feeling a little... lost." It was the best way to describe how he was feeling, and he wondered if Lestrange understood.