( I... llusions. Deceptions. A craft of artifice and unsavoury lies. Those who wield it wear a thousand faces, each a mask. And how are they known, between their changing truths? How can they ever be trusted?
Flinching, Lan Wangji recedes, gaze stormed but settling, in the end, as if he has resigned himself — if not to admiring the girl's ability, than to accepting its pivotal role in princess Cle-Florens' expedient withdrawal.
They must make use of every skill, every last dreg of knowledge, every innovation they can concoct between them. They must toil and prevail and live. He knows this, viscerally. Knows too that his natural does not allow him to greet every talent with equanimity.
He is his uncle's nephew more often than he cares to admit. Nodding, he strives for better: )
How will you weather, should guards learn your nature? ( Perhaps by catching the difference in her scent, or a taste of her magic? There are those skilled even among the people of Alem. ) I shall return for you.
no subject
( I... llusions. Deceptions. A craft of artifice and unsavoury lies. Those who wield it wear a thousand faces, each a mask. And how are they known, between their changing truths? How can they ever be trusted?
Flinching, Lan Wangji recedes, gaze stormed but settling, in the end, as if he has resigned himself — if not to admiring the girl's ability, than to accepting its pivotal role in princess Cle-Florens' expedient withdrawal.
They must make use of every skill, every last dreg of knowledge, every innovation they can concoct between them. They must toil and prevail and live. He knows this, viscerally. Knows too that his natural does not allow him to greet every talent with equanimity.
He is his uncle's nephew more often than he cares to admit. Nodding, he strives for better: )
How will you weather, should guards learn your nature? ( Perhaps by catching the difference in her scent, or a taste of her magic? There are those skilled even among the people of Alem. ) I shall return for you.