Lion Head Mesa You want me to leave London and give up magic?

The flow of information did not cease. Reyes listened, unable to put a face to the thought of his wife, as the only person he had thought of these long hours was his daughter; but he was thankful to be given the charity of a meal. He would enjoy the taste of his victory, even if it had been hard fought over many hours of toiling; perhaps especially so for the work he'd been made to do.

The last thing Ramesses offered was a gift. Did he truly care how Reyes was received when he returned home? Any gift would make it known where Reyes had been this whole time; but perhaps he could lie, and he could say he was somewhere else, doing anything other than service to this man. It would be something Reyes thought about as he ate his meal and made his way home - and maybe he would tell the truth, in the end.

Thank you. He answered, head still bowed. He was honest now: Ramesses could have sent someone to tell his daughter of his weakness, of his service, and ruined some deeper piece of himself with that simple act. He did not do that.

The two men stood together. Reyes did not dare move, and was too accustomed now to wait for dismissal to even think to depart without a word from someone above him.