Aramis' expression tightens, and for a moment his throat grows thick and hot, the panic of that ashen world rising unbidden within him, but he swallows it down. Rene offers Isaac a smile.

"I suppose it would be rude to refuse when you have already poured," he muses. "And Mathieu will be guarding the door by now." He sidles forward, taking up the glass Isaac has offered. "To your health."