“Oh, no, Cazaril,” said Iselle. “Stay up here with us. It’s much nicer.” “Indeed, yes,” he assured her. “It’s not just. You’ve twice Ser dy Sanda’s wits, and ten times his travels! Why do you endure him so, so…” Betriz seemed at a loss for words. “Quietly,” she finally finished. She stared away for a moment, as if afraid he would construe she’d swallowed a term less flattering. Cazaril smiled crookedly at his unexpected partisan. “Do you think it would make him happier if I presented myself as a target for his foolishness?” “Clearly, yes!” “Well, then. Your question answers itself.” She opened
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