The blame is winced at, but once again, not argued with. Valdis makes a fair point, as difficult as it is for him to swallow. He remembers little of the details of all of it, but she is in his care; surely, her coming to be as she is must have been his doing. His raised hackles lower, slowly but surely - and when she speaks back up, gentler this time, his expression softens in turn.

He hesitates, but answers quietly, with a hushed sort of sentimentality a parent might reserve for a sleeping infant.

"...Glory. Her name is Glory."