Yet now and then during that long, heavy, talkative supperparty, though all my attention was given to those complex and powerful Orgota who meant to befriend or use me, I was sharply aware of him: of his silence; of his dark averted face. And it crossed my mind, though I dismissed the idea as baseless, that I had not come to Mishnory to eat roast blackfish with the Commensals of my own free will; nor had they brought me here. He had.
I’m not sure Estraven is really present, or if this is another of Genly’s “dreams.” He also had a “dream” of war a few days ago just after crossing the river/border into this new country, which, weirdly, turned into a real and violent and war-like raid by Karhidians.
