[Rhys laughs. Not a soft, urbane little chuckle, but a full throated, genuinely highly amused chortle, the smile that went with it disturbingly wide.]

My dear boy! Clearly you don't follow politics. [He leans on one hand, merriment still dancing in his eyes.] Don't you know all blood's the same color when it slips free the veins? Why should anyone care where it comes from before that?

Everyone's a peasant in the eyes of the Lord. Or a king. How does that go ... ?