“[Men] fall ill,” added Attolia, spearing an entirely harmless pastry and transferring it to her plate.
It's so much fun to read this book while keeping in mind this is older Pheris writing. Sometimes you have to forget that detail, because he narrates things that make no sense for him to know (though I guess you can assume they're one of those unasked-for contributions he mentions at the exordium), but other times you're left with the striking image that Irene's stabbing of this pastry left on that impressionable little boy's mind, that even as an adult he remembered so vividly









