Juliana pursed her lips slightly, but otherwise kept her expression neutral. She remembered discussing it with him long ago, but the stakes had been lower then. She hadn't made a point of reading into every facial expression to try and determine what he really thought about Forfang, because if they were only acquaintances or even passing friends it didn't much matter if his respect for Forfang's work was only superficial. She was to have her own study when they married, and he'd encouraged her to continue her career when he'd proposed, but it would have been unreasonable to think she could continue on indefinitely while keeping him in the dark on what that career actually was.

She moved her free hand, the one not resting on his arm as he lead her around the lake, to brush against her wand in her pocket. She glanced back at the festival once, to reassure herself that she'd judged the distance correctly and everyone was well out of earshot. This was the part of the conversation which might go poorly, but she was ready for it.

"It's my work," she admitted quietly. "Marlowe Forfang is my penname."

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