[From the blood on blades and lust in eyes, they would not have survived. Kratos knows this; does not say it.]

I would not serve you under the cloud of such a lie.

[Very softly, and without looking up. He's already said this, or something to the same effect; but very long ago. He realises he's fiddling, his fingers laced together and moving; he stills them explicitly.]

But I will submit to whatever punishment you choose.

[Even if the thought of death makes his heart skip and his body ready for it. He -- isn't sure what that is; a want to die, a desire to not. He seems to want both.]