[Has he ever. Just the feel of the light pressure brings back memories, and his eyelids flutter, his breath catching in his throat.

He knows it's one of many things Gennar never understood about him, the way he'd guide his hands up to his neck. He had given up with Gennar, with the faltering, nervous pressure, the contradiction of who Ianchus was and what he asked of him too much for for the Guardsman to reconcile.

But there had been others, all too willing to play along, who knew not to let him go even when he thrashed and clawed.

All of that goes through his mind, but all he says is:] Yes...