Over the more than a year that he's been basically all bird Julien learned to both love and hate how expressionless it is to people who haven't learned the weird subtleties of bird body language. Here and now he's barely using his human body at all, and so it's his voice that gives away confusion and conflict.

"That's true," he says carefully. "And like. I really really shouldn't say this, but like, if I say I'm not talking about the Prince. Some other guy. The Dauphin, I don't know. That one." Julien pauses and marshals his thoughts, then goes and shuts his beak with a snap.

He produces all the sounds for speech down in his chest, no need for lips and tongues to interfere at all, so he can speak perfectly clearly with a closed beak, but it's muffled. "Is the biggest fucking asshole I've ever seen oh my God." Eyes ringed in faint white light open in the air around him, looking for anyone who might have heard that outburst and would report it. There's just captives looking like a weird art exhibit. He closes the eyes again. "I belong to him but even if I was his favorite kind of servant, all pretty and completely human, he still takes their names. It's going to happen even if I'm really good. So... in for a penny, in for a pound, I guess?"

God but he feels so unsafe saying that. He's pretty sure those are the thoughts he'd had out in the open air, but of course, there's the more or less functional namelessness of the servants who've been like this for years, and there's doing it without care for preserving ability. As punishment. Even so. He has to make some token defiance while he's still able.