That hanging moment hangs just a little longer, an arc of fate between the two of them. Each is aware, intimately and inescapably aware, that their hearts are beating in sync, joined together by the thread of a power as mighty, as omnipresent, and as intelligent as gravity. Thus is the vow; let the traitor bear its consequences.

The moment passes. The world goes back to its business, and stops staring at these two small parts of it.

"Don't worry overmuch about me knowin' your true name," Victoria murmurs. "It doesn't really do much for me. If I was a better dream-witch it'd be handy to walk into your head, but I ain't. Just don't go babbling it at any fairies and you'll be fine."

She takes her hand back. "If you'll indulge the tiniest bit of pointless curiosity though...your file didn't have a 'Musel' in it. On Earth the 'von' bit is like, 'of', as in like, 'von Whitestone' or somesuch. That the deal where you're from, there a Musel somewhere your family hiked out of?"