[CW: Sexism, morbid death fantasies]

The stuff of nightmares twitched further downward at fully laying eyes on Rose. So redheaded. So Wardish. So, abominably Simon Rose. How long was it going to take for her to have some ill-fated affair and blissfully croak in childbirth?

Preferably alongside Uriel's harpy, at the same time. Hardly physically possible (unless, dear God, the harlot lived to birth another!), but a man could dream.

"Rose," he deadpanned. "What was that?"

His eyes flicked to the light above them in disapproving emphasis.