Your wife, and Barrow. But he was speaking his shitty Orlesian.

[ There’s fondness in that descriptor. And regret. It embarrassed him when he was a child—he would jump in to talk for his father, to the locals, impatient and humiliated when when he struggled with conjugation and declension—but hearing it again felt like a hand wrapping directly around his heart. ]

They didn’t understand. I acted like I didn’t know what it was.