Vincent furrows his brow, then puts hands on both of her shoulders, turning her to face him, stopping in his tracks.
"No. Although manners would prevent me from saying it so loudly in the golden realm, you are no more of your fore-bearers than the product of their blood. You are not their actions or choices." He smiles softly. "There is mischief in you, but it is your own. You are no more Loki than I am my blood parents."
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