A wary shadow crossed Thomil’s expression. “If I’ve spoken out of turn, ma’am, I apologize.” “No, no. You’re not out of…” Well, they were both speaking out of turn by speaking ill of Faene’s teachings. “They’re good questions,” she amended. The type she usually had to sit around asking herself for hours until her brain stripped its gears from running in circles. The run was easier with someone at her side. “Your questions are always good.” “May I ask another, then?” “Please.”
