[ He huffs out a laugh, a glimmer of wry amusement in his eyes as he glances over his shoulder at her again. ]

I take it that's not your actual name.

[ As in dreams, the markets are crowded, maybe even moreso than he remembers given the festivities. It's easy to disappear here, becoming just two more insignificant wanderers mingling amidst the sights and sounds of the merchant stalls and the underground dwellers out shopping.

And easier to hold a conversation without being singled out by eavesdroppers, too. ]

Not that it matters to me whether I have your trust. I wouldn't trust you either. But I will give you my name⁠—Felix.