“Seriously, it’s like you stepped out of a storybook.” I gestured: gracious flattering understated affectionate acceptance. Vashet reached out and flicked my ear hard with a finger. “Ow!” I burst out laughing. “Fine. But don’t you dare accuse me of melodrama. You people are one great unending dramatic gesture. The quiet. The bloodred clothes. The hidden language. Secrets and mysteries. It’s like your lives are one giant dumbshow.” I met her eye. “And I do mean that in all its various clever implications.”
