Cynthia waited for his answer. Trafalgar held the suitcase in one hand and let his attention drift past her, toward the lower floor where students, guests, staff, and half the departing crowd moved through Aurevane's polished corridors as though the city had handed them exactly what it promised. A grand event. A winner. A harmless story to carry home. He almost envied them for a breath.
"For me," he said at last, "it's more complicated."
"That sounds like something you say when you don't want to explain."
"It happens to be true as well. Both can fit in the same sentence."
"I know." She adjusted the strap of her bag across her shoulder and turned toward the exit beside him. "I'm just learning that with you they usually do."
Trafalgar glanced at her. "That makes me sound difficult."
"You are difficult. I've stopped trying to phrase it kindly."
"That's... fair."
