‘Sit down,’ I said. ‘We need to talk.’ He stood. ‘I think not.’ ‘I insist.’ ‘I refuse.’ He looked past me, into a distance I could not see. He lifted his chin. I stood. ‘I need to know, Fool. You look at me sometimes, you say things, apparently in jest, but … you let both Starling and Jek believe that we could be lovers.’ The word came out harshly, like an epithet. ‘Perhaps you deem it of little importance that Jek believes you are a woman and in love with me.
