Most flee. ( Therefore, not so arresting —

Ah, but these are the old habits, the stormy, misplaced unkindness. Let it go, Lan Wangji. Let it not become you. )

If we are pursued. Watched. ( Smack of his lips, dry friction. He looks away. ) Who? ( No. They all suspect the same name, spoken with callous difficulty. ) Matthias?

( After all, who else commands so much of their attention here? Who else has been the architect of so much misfortune? )

You bore his hand. Yet present?