Elijah had the grace to look contrite. As much as he adored Tessa, it had been made clear where he stood when it came to Niklaus—and equally, where she stood firmly on the opposite end. Once upon a time, anyway. Yes, he had kept things from her, from everyone, and for what? He read into the halting gap in her speech and knew exactly the word that had almost slipped from her lips, but he drew no attention to it. He was not here to argue.
"No," he replied, watching her gaze trace his hardened jawline. He turned and embarked on a cursory exploration of her room, prowling from one trinket to another. "The doppelgaenger escaped." For the time being, he withheld how or why this had happened. He continued conversationally, his tone effortlessly even with no particular feelings attached. "But there was another. We reached an understanding, she and I. The ritual will happen, Tessa, one way or another. It is only a matter of time." Better, then, that it happen on their terms and not on Klaus'.
"Why do you hate him so much?" he asked, breaking off from the narration.