[ How strange it is to hear all that. Of all the things he's confessed, this is a strange one - an odd little pocket of hurt. Remembering the exasperation of the Chantry mothers as they tried to get him to sit still and focus, remembering the way he'd slip away from class to get a respite from it all. The way that climbing trees and chasing frogs had turned into idle gambling, mouthfuls of moonshine, kissing fishermen's daughters under their blouses. Slipping a hand down the trousers of the merchant's sons. Getting caught. Feeling the terror and thrill of knowing his father would be in one of his rages.

So much trouble would have been averted if he'd been smart enough to sit still.

But - Bastien had said it, hadn't he. It's funny, what we do without understanding why. ]

If you'd had school, if you'd had the proper books when you were a boy -

[ His voice is low and a little rough. He touches Bastien's cheek and leans his forehead against his. ]

You do understand it, the things they say - I've listened to you, the way you ask questions. Even if it's not all at once, you start to understand these fantastical ideas. If you'd just had their advantages, you could run rings around them. I want to spit in their eyes when they talk to you like you're simple.

[ And this isn't a refutation of the kind things Bastien said. Instead, if anything, it's a...complement to all that. ]

I'm smart enough to know how brilliant you are. And I'm smart enough to listen to you. I'd have everything I'd need to be a king if you were with me.