Faolan takes in another deep breath, letting it out slowly. So. Not quite the same as things had been for him. In some ways, that's better for Lancelot. The system isn't... Well. It isn't perfect, nothing is. But it sounds like Lancelot had a fairly good experience of things. Possibly better than he did himself, at any rate. At 18 years old, you're legally old enough to take care of yourself -- and with no family left, that's exactly what Faolan had had to do.

He hesitates at the question, before nodding slightly. "I'd heard about it," he says, before admitting, "though I hadn't really done any looking into it. Sometimes there isn't a lot that we can do, in terms of the fae..." Short of starting another war. And Hillingdon was rather against the idea of such a thing, so. "It's that recent, then?" he asks, sitting forward in his seat slightly, before gesturing vaguely at the other man. "Your memories coming back, I mean. Only a few months...?"