Levan tilted his head slightly, thinking with a look she had learned to recognize, the one he wore when he was deciding how much damage honesty would do.
"There's a clean answer," he said. "And there's the honest one. Which one do you want?"
"Honest." Ilaria did not hesitate, not even a second. And because apparently she had chosen violence tonight, she added, "Because last time you told me you didn't know and I don't believe that for a moment."
His brow lifted. "You don't?"
She shook her head, dead serious. "You do this thing where you pretend ignorance when the truth is just inconvenient or heavy, or you think it'll scare me."
She cleared her throat, "I still remember you said 'They changed, twisted, maybe. Don't know how or why'—" she mimicked his voice while trying to look stern. "—when I know for a fact you're more knowledgeable than that."
"That's a very specific accusation," he remarked.
"Is it wrong?"
He exhaled through his nose, smiling coyly. "No."
