His eyes were still fogged with exhaustion, but his voice was pleasant again, imperial and commanding, as when they had first met back at the Teahouse. “My name is Zen.” Zen. It was a monosyllabic moniker as ordained by the new Elantian laws—but it was something. A half-name, a half-truth…yet it would do for now. Lan pulled her lips into the ghost of a smile. “I’m Lan.”
