The fact that Effy knew something of Hild's time was of interest to her, but not something that she would question. Enough texts had passed her gaze for Hild to know that what they stated was mostly guesswork, built off of bits and pieces of rich and full lives found abandoned in graves and dirt and peat. Many only knew the name "Dark Ages" and made assumptions off of this. Hild did not want to have to counter every wrong presumption that Effy might repeat with a correct answer. Pedancy like that annoyed her.

Hild would counter her, lightly, thoughtfully, on one point. "Isn't disappearing something the same as dying?" she asked, head tilted. "Before you, I hadn't heard of anyone retaining their memories in coming back here. That's years of people coming and going, here and not, and when returning, returning as a new person. The departed continue to live, but what's the difference to our hearts, left behind?" There was some solace to be taken in the thought of those who had left continuing to live in another world. But what was the idea of heaven if not the same cold comfort?

Kicking her legs out idly, Hild gripped the branch beneath her, feeling cracked bark beneath her palms and a few ants skittering up her pinkie finger. She did not dislodge them, but followed their path with her eyes only to see if there were more.

"It is and isn't," she replied. "To be honest, I did not spend much of my time as a proper princess. I was his seer as well, you see."