Now the eyes that the Fool fix upon Fitz are sharp and hard. He has gone from doe in repose to wolf in a moment; Nighteyes would be proud. Love must often be fierce.

"Not accomplished anything of worth?" he repeats Fitz's words back to him coldly. He gestures around them, a wide arc of his arms. "No, perhaps not. I only changed the world." There, he leans in closer, but not seeking intimacy as before, but so Fitz can see the certainty in his eyes. He points a finger at him. "Your knife did not kill me, by your own admission. That means there remains work to be done between you and I."