The deluge of rain that sweeps the capital is sudden.

"Have you no care?" Tang Fan berates. "Or is this clumsiness?"

"I don't step beneath blades on purpose," Sui Zhou bites back, now sufficiently baited.

Before Fujian, Tang Fan had only caught those turns in Sui Zhou's expression where it had made sense to conclude they were borne of irritation. He's since learned differently; been its witness and its inspiration enough to know that it comes when Sui Zhou is not expecting something to touch at where it does within the crux of man and malformation, where his pleasures have bled to pains have bled to perturbations.

Iris only sees him once after that.

Five Christmases, and four Christmas courts. Eleanor of Aquitaine sees the holidays through.

Hobie Doyle and Burt Gurney in: spy games.

Ten years in and Fletcher is dead. Neiman isn't far behind him.