"I see." He restrains amusement--mostly. "Admirable of--" he pauses, decides not to even try, "your friend. Hai, that's more merciful, as hangmen go, so long as it doesn't leave them alive and paralyzed." A touch of distaste there, the first. A fate like that is one Dynast-dono might deal out, not his master's style at all, or his own. A person should choose, every day, to remember to be defeated for it to stick. It's no fun at all if they don't have the option.
"I had a feeling," he laughs, too. "Still, there are reasons, ne, even when they don't excuse? This nosy person is so curious about Borgia-kun's life!"
"Humours?" He shrugs. "I suppose, from a certain perspective, you could call it that. It's all blood, ne, the red blood and the white. And the black, for those who have it. Blood is everything; the rest of the humors only help the body work."