[ Liem's compliment is not met without that small, not-insignificant response from Set. The startle, the unfathomable disbelief — something so deeply tethered in him that it might has well be him, not the well-rooted insanity someone who sought, and succeeded, in isolating him. Making an already-difficult man impossible. He turns quickly, as if trying to outrace the fluster that builds upon his own face once more, intent instead on making his way to the door of Liem's bedroom, and downstairs.

Awaiting him, at the bottom of the stairwell, means that Set has recovered enough to shore up his own vulnerabilities and become ruthlessly confident, a beaming smile worn upon his mouth as finally, he answers: ] I did not grieve your lack of presence at the masquerade, for I had every intention of getting what I want from you in the future.

[ He offers both hands to Liem, stretching himself up like a flower to the sun, a long neck upon which a mouth ought to be pressed, a friend seeking the contact of another. He carries nothing with him, Galaniel holds their tickets in reserve at the theatre — for Set has taken a creature of war and hunger and encouraged him to transform into something additional. He never asks anyone to replace themselves, nor their parts, for they can always add on to the foundations, place new things upon their walls and decorate themselves over and over.

He is so envious of mortals, loving and hating them more and more every day. ]

I hope you enjoy tonight, Liem. Already, I would like to do this again.