"That's not gossip, unless this is going somewhere," he points out, because what in hell would the Saint of Patience care about his tenure in Trench for, honestly. He frowns briefly, recalling, then, "Three months, give or take an extra day or so. I'm fairly certain I was the fourth to arrive."

So close. Could have been sixth. Sometimes, life can be a terrible disappointment.

He waits, then. Either he learns where it's going or he hears more intriguing and mostly-nonsensical Lyctor Facts, so it's only lose-lose in the part where he's still in God's ugly house.