His given name has been used like a bludgeon since he was dragged here, drawing into sharp focus an old familiarity he had done much to purge from his life.

And beyond these unholy halls, saying it would have been seen as too personal in casual conversation with just anyone. It was an overstep that no one with any amount of decorum would dare to make -- and that was something Raphael both understood and felt called to trample on. He had always known him as Enver first, so the fact that it was seen as a violation was just a very easy low-hanging fruit for him to pluck.

So to hear it now, when the Dark Urge he had met at the Coronation would have never dared. Whose eyes didn't and couldn't look at him the way they did now. It all felt like a trick, even if -- beyond more of the devil's cruelty -- he could not imagine why such a thing would be attempted.

All of it could be a lie. The battle. His former keeper slain. The face he is seeing, the voice he is hearing.

And he feels something familiar creeping in. A hand closing around the heart beating in his chest. And he is raw. Because he might be facing down a deception but it's a beautiful one. He can have it for a moment because he knows what is about to come.

"Is it you?"