[A fetching drowned rat? Dimitri laughs outright at that, though it's brief. His gaze follows Claude as he stands, but Dimitri remains where he is, not wanting to relinquish the drying power of the fire just yet.]

I suppose it is somewhat troublesome, but at this point, I might as well wait for the war to come to a conclusion before bothering with it. I am sure they'll want to paint a portrait for my coronation or any other number of embarrassing things, and I would rather not make a hasty choice now that I'll regret for the next fifty years every time I walk past the wretched thing.

[And he will walk by it frequently, if only to sear the memory of his father's face into his mind.]