“I was Sly. Sly was I. There was no room tween I and Sly.”
The pacing forms into a circle. I jerk to a halt.
“But if I be Sly, I call the Lord a liar.”
“No Sly would call the Lord a liar.”
I begin pacing again, in the opposite direction. I stop.
“If I be not Sly, then I must be the Lord!”
Momentary joy turns to consternation.
“But if I be the Lord, this Lord would quickly call that Lord a liar.”
I pinch my lips.
“And if that Lord be a liar—”
I rub my head.
“I go back to being Sly.”
My eyes dart right and left.
“A Sly that called the Lord a liar.”
You should have closed the frame on me when you had the chance, you manipulative little weasel. Now I have The Lord's Bedchamber. See you later, sucker - Christopher Sly (gratefulseeker.com)