'My' mercenaries were fairly open-minded. I'm not wrong to want others to be more like that, instead of making snap decisions about me.

[But he was just digging his heels in to be sulky and contrary, it was clear. He'd come into this conversation already in a bad mood, and while Byleth was always willing to self-examine his failures and shortcomings to better himself, he was a lot brattier when he had chugged almost his weight in alcohol.]

I don't know how you do it, Claude. [But as bratty and grumpy as he was, he had to admit admiration for one thing:] Forget Seiros, you're the saint of Fódlan. Your patience is seemingly boundless.