"It's not just telepaths," Balthier says. There's a bite of coldness, almost laughter to it. "I have a silver tongue, David. I can convince people to listen to me. I do, constantly. It's something I built, not some thing I was given that I had to learn to live with. I did all of this."

The words are tumbling out and he hates it. But he also can't stop. It's like he's poked a hole in a an overstuffed container and now the pressure is rushing to reach equilibrium.

That's too much to escape, he knows. He tries to pull it back.

"I don't -- yes. It's hard. Impossible to figure out the line. We just have to keep examining it. Be open to being wrong and give ourselves grace to get correct."

Because if not, then there's no hope for him. He's still Ffamran. He's still a coward and a liar and he doesn't deserve love and all of those things will always be true.