"Yes indeed." Iago returns the toast, and the smile.
"So he is, and swift. And of course, had assured me at first it was all herbs. 'Infused with things,' he said. It took me longer than it ought to work it all out, but I shall plead shock to pardon me." He looks at Cesare a little uncertainly. "Duca, may I -- ? If your youth passes with the summer after all, and again an accustomed eye can note the catches in your body, perhaps there is something he could do for you, or else the wand-bearing healer? Xellos's injuries too were very old, and extensive, and he is far more whole now than when he arrived. Forgive me if I speak too closely."
Iago has read all about it. More times than he will ever, ever admit.