"I like to know the rules of the game I'm playing, whether it's propriety or impropriety. In a place like this, where people come from all worlds and our hosts are invisible, we've no standard but the ones we set ourselves. Each new guest becomes the next host. Which is why this whole business with Lancelot stings," he says with a sigh. "It's not an unreasonable thing, I think, to hold a guest to account for striking a host. Even if he thought his host a portent. Yet Lancelot still couldn't seem to grasp why I took exception to him, or why loving Galahad might make me protective. I had to explain it to him, and when I asked for his empathy ... well, you would've thought I asked for much worse. For a moment I thought he might strike me, but that's likely because of my own history." The last he dismisses with a wave of his hand, rather than dwell on. "Ultimately, he responded quite civilly. It's still tiresome."