Not once, but twice; there is something disconcerting about reliving that particular moment all over again, not quite able to disconnect himself from these men who might very well come from different worlds entirely. They look at him the same way - with rightful suspicion and outright shock, like they've seen a ghost put to rest and he's tearing open old wounds, like he always would - and it feels the same, like a lifetime ago wasn't long enough.

(It wasn't; it was little more than a year.)

The situation, Martel has decided, calls for a drink and a friendship one has to be this twisted in the first place just to fall into. He tells Candice, first, being not entirely a fool, and sends warning ahead to the castle to see if he's welcome enough to drop by.