"I do not know," He says, almost cheerful, almost proud, "A year after I left her, she found me again. None but myself could have borne the mark, and it had begun to kill her in earnest. She sought me out, and when she found me, she already knew."

He remembers that moment with startling clarity. Clenched, turning to face her, willingly taking on the unpleasant task of owning up to his own terrible duplicity. But she already knew, had read out his own name, his titles to him, as if they were as obvious as the color of the sky.

Fingertips tapping against his skin, fleeting, furtive, welcome and warm, Felassan to the core: he was always thus, even at his most stalwart. As he was, now.

"You joke, and name her 'Wolf Tamer'. But you do not know how right you are. I have never been outmaneuvered so thoroughly."