“Mr. Skellen.” Dacre Silifant cleared his throat, but when he spoke his voice was steady and his eyes cold. “I do not know exactly. He would appear to be a man, but I’m not certain. As to what kind of officer Neratin Ceka is, I’m certain. What you have deigned to ask me about would be significant were I to ask him—or her—for his—or her—hand. But that I do not intend. Neither do you, I expect.”
