There is something in there he disagrees with -- clear in the lines that bite in between his brows -- but Wysteria speaks so quickly and with such momentum. Even in complete control of his faculties, he’d have a hard time getting a word in edgewise.

Here, today, he’s stumped to silence.

“Yes,” he says. He would. He almost says, I would.

Instead, he spends half the breath he was going to use for it dawdling with his mouth open while he reviews his own playback. He’d looked at her before, but this is the first time he manages hazy eye contact, fooled into it by his own disbelief. Perhaps he’s misunderstood.

“Under Kirkwall?”