“Yet the man’s clothes had a citrus smell, you say?” “They did. Signum Malo assumed that was done to cover up the sce—” “Quiet,” she snapped. “I am thinking! Hm. You say Sujedo also tapped his leg as he went about his business…And he asked the guard about the man’s wedding, you say? Despite being an axiom?” “Yes. I thought that very odd, too.” “Being as axioms are usually as socially cognizant as a wet fucking brick, yes,” she said. “It is quite damned odd.” I pursed my lips, for Ana’s own grasp of social decorum was often nonexistent, but refrained from comment.
