Shane (this is probably going to pretty common):
I sighed, scratching absently at the waxy scar in the place where Grahv used to hibernate.
"You know, I'm not all bad," I tried to say to Conor.
"Are you sure about that? I have the faintest memory of you threatening to slit Meilin's throat in Amaya. And your followers threatened to cut Uraza out of Abeke's arm."
I grimaced. "I'm sorry about that. I really am."
"And Kovo will magically make the world bloom with pink and purple flowers, singlehandedly destroy the Wyrm, and save my life again," he snorted.
"You don't know whether that won't happen."
"I do know. It's not going to happen."
"Idiot."
"Crocodile eyes."
"Wyrm possessed jerk."
"Poor misled prince of Stetriol with a chip on his shoulder who thought that the Bile was good."
"Was that supposed to be an insult, Euran slave boy?"
In a flash of light, Briggan was standing at Conor's side, snarling. "If you say one more thing about me, I will not hold Briggan from eating you."
I gulped. "I think I will refrain from insulting you."
"Conor!" Meilin shouted. "Why are you talking to King?"
I sighed, knowing that I wouldn't be able to convince them of my intentions. They'd never look further than the Reptile King, the King of the Redcloaks, the boy who made the wrong decisions, who killed many. It was useless. I stood up. "Well, nice to talking to you, Conor. See you someday."
"Don't doubt it. We are currently living in your headquarters.