“Lucien, do you know what I have? In life?” “What?” “My profession. That’s it. I’ve no family, except my aunt, and she’ll never speak to me again. I live on the pittance they pay justiciars. My friends are all justiciars, or married to them. Everyone else hates us. If I couldn’t be a justiciar, I... God, I don’t know what I’d do. If I lost that, I’d have lost everything.” “I’m here,” Crane observed, without inflection.
