His quarry grabs hold of him, some poor attempt at physical intimidation when the current power dynamic is so obviously skewed in the Dark One's favor. He tsks softly, unconcernedly, and cocks his head, completely untroubled by the attempted assertion of dominance. His voice remains level, his eyes unblinking.

"That's bad manners, dearie." One hand snakes up to wrap iron fingers around one of the offending wrists. "I suggest you release me. It may be all the worse for you - " Grizelda's grip tightens - " - if you don't."