He laps some loose grounds from the edge of the filter, with the outermost circle. "On the other hand, if I were able to speak to him about these matters, you understand I would already have done so? I've tried. It's as if there's a wall there."

Spreading one hand a little as he lifts the kettle, his lip turns out ever so slightly. "A Palace wall. The wall of his distortion. The problem is that Ren is not rational. His distortion seems set in stone. He wants me to act—wants all of us to act, I think. To care enough to act.

"But he believes that we won't act in his interests—and certainly not in what he considers to be my best interests. He won't like it if I talk about going anywhere near his Palace. I'm certain of that."

He sets the kettle down on the cooling hotplate, with an air of finality.