[If Jezebel asked him, and if he somehow could answer, Ianchus would probably, in the heat of the moment, have told him to keep going. Go all the way.
It's something he's thought about a lot.

His eyelids flutter, and suddenly he's wracked with a coughing fit as his damaged throat spasms. He doubles over, one hand holding onto his throat (the bruises visible under his fingers), his other hand gripping Jezebel's shirt]