Llewellyn felt a rare, angry heat rising in him to hear it. He wasn’t surprised to hear this but... It wasn’t easy to hear for multiple reasons. How was it that everyone he cared for were put through such horrors in their youth? How was it that anyone thought it was right that they should think to... do that... to a child that did nothing other than be born different from the majority?

It’s quite obvious how upset the story made him, not at Rhy but at the cruelty of the world that he’d apparently known as well. Cutlery was set aside entirely, he couldn’t really think of eating now. Not with the how that knowledge had left him feeling, between remembering and being upset on his beloved’s behalf. “That... is one aspect of people that I will never understand. How one could think that’s right or acceptable... I’m sorry, Rhy, my love... I just.”

He let out a sigh himself, “I wish that you hadn’t been put through such a horror. That I could...” No, he knows he couldn’t have done anything, but the way his mind worked? It was a natural desire, considering what he did for those in his life that he loved.