Swiftcurrent Creek bayou

well! he hadn't been expecting! that! lestan shut his mouth and stepped back. had he a crisp waistcoat he might have straightened it irately. "fancy that," he retorted, though he was far more subdued than he had been. "we've a cousin up in the taiga, wouldn't you know." 
for a moment he looked at the man whose name he still did not know, looked at the fine dark features and the hard golden eyes, and felt the little indication of interest he always felt in such situations. with such men.
his nostrils flared. "i don't care that you don't trust me. i — never asked for it." lestan tried to force some resoluteness into his own jaw. "so. if we are — more acquainted, then i should be free to tell you i believe the end of your fighting is not done."
"and!" the loquacious mayfair rushed on before he could be denied, "i think you may need an, um, an emissary of peace, when that time comes. a mediator."