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Nicholae seemed amused now. “You’re a modest fellow, aren’t you?”

What the heck? Again, Hector didn’t know what to say. This seemed to happen to him a lot, he was realizing. Maybe he should figure out some way of dealing with it in the future.

“That’s alright,” said Nicholae. “No need to say anything. I feel like I already know all I need to about you.”

“...You’re a very strange man,” said Hector.

“People keep telling me that. Apologies if I said something to make you uncomfortable. I do that a lot, apparently. But it’s usually almost always unintentional. Most of the time.”

“Uh... huh...”

‘Ask about the political situation in Azirat,’ said Garovel, again privately.

“Er. Um. How are things here in Azirat politically?”

“Oh, now there’s a heavy question. How much time have you got?”

“Heh. Not that much, I’m afraid.”

“Not planning on sticking around for a while, huh? That’s a shame. I would’ve treated you to the finest Azirati cuisine you’ve ever tasted.”

“That does sound tempting,” said Hector. “I’ll have to take a rain check.”

“Perhaps the political conversation should wait until then, too. I’d talk your ear off about that subject if you let me. Better to do it over a hearty meal. How about we exchange contact info?” And he whipped out his phone from within his black jacket.

Hector clicked his tongue. “Ah... I’d love to, but mine broke recently, and I haven’t gotten around to replacing it yet.”

“Aha. I see. Not to worry, then.” With a flourish of his left hand, a metallic card materialized into it, and he offered it to Hector.

Blinking, Hector took it and inspected it more closely. It had a distinctive blue sheen, but a string of embossed numbers was clearly visible on it. As were the words ‘Nicholae R. Medan, Attorney at Law.’

Wow.

Hector felt like he should steal that trick for himself, though he wasn’t sure what he would put on it.

From there, the conversation didn’t last much longer. Hector made an equivalent invitation to come visit Warrenhold in Atreya, and then he was off, wanting to complete this final patrol and head home. He was running on fumes, having once again gone several days without rest, and he was very much looking forward to that giant bed of his in the Tower of Night.

He wanted to venture back down to Vaeland again to check on things there, but he couldn’t really justify it to himself. As much as he’d played down the distances between these countries to Nicholae, Hector was still aware of how much of a commitment these flights were. His speed had definitely improved over the past few days, but he still wasn’t that fast. Not like Abbas in that crazy armor of his.