Adequate, then the kitchen. Adequate, then the garden. Adequate, then the market.
"You know who I am," she said. Not a question.
"Yes," he said.
"Not the person on the rock," she said. "The full thing."
"Yes," he said again. He said it without flinching, without the performance of casualness or the performance of gravitas. Simply yes, steady, the way true things are said when you have made your peace with them.
"And?" she said.
He thought about it — she could see him actually thinking, not constructing a safe answer but finding the honest one.
"The person on the rock is also the full thing," he said. "They are not different people. The Empress who recalibrated an empire in fifteen days and the woman who asked a rope seller why he only sold rope are the same person." He paused. "That is — more, not less. It is harder to be both than to be only one."
She looked at the street ahead.
