Galahad looks up. When he'd told Claudius last night, he'd felt too apart from his body to do anything but recite what had happened as dispassionately as possible -- although Claudius knows him too well not to understand how upset he was, and held him and stroked his hair and then made him take a hot bath while Claudius told stories about various alchemical mishaps of his youth, until the pleasant drawl of his voice made Galahad's misery abate enough for sleep.

Now, though, as he meets Lan Wangji's eyes, he's uncomfortably present in himself. To his dismay, tears begin running down his face. "He used his power on my mind."