“You became a Lyctor,” he said. “That was always the plan.” “Not for the Harrowhark I knew. Tell me you did it correctly,” he said, and there was a quick, questioning eagerness to his voice, something beneath the confusion. “Tell me you finished the work. You out of everyone could have worked out the end to the beginning I was starting to explicate. Your cavalier, Reverend Daughter—” “Has become the furnace of my Lyctorhood,” you said.
