“Thieve is an unofficial province of Go’adon,” Mishahn explained. “Mostly inhabited by derelicts and outlaws--” She checked herself and glanced at Aandina, but received no objection. She continued. “It’s ruled, in a very loose sense of the word, by a man named Rumír, who’s said to be the most ruthless and vicious of them all.” Aandina snorted and rolled her eyes. “And we’re going to be safe there?” Arom inquired, unconvinced. “They do not harm you if you are with the King,” Aandina assured him. “And the King does not harm you if you are with me.” As an afterthought, she added, “But do not lie to him.” “I don’t think we intended to,” Mishahn replied, vaguely offended. “Not for respect for him,” Aandina clarified. “It is just more simple. He sees all lies, all... illusion, and finds the truth always.” Arom tensed, and blurted out, “Always?” Aandina shot him an unreadable glance. “Always. He sees lies as we see shadow. We see there is not light; he sees there is not truth.”