Are these places Arthur might have been? It seems possible, but unlikely. The names stir nothing in him.

"I have not been to either. You must have me mistaken for someone else." In demonstration, he tips back his cowl to let Levi have a proper look at his— at Arthur's— face. Then tugs it down low again to hide the fucking sign. "Though I suppose you can be forgiven the confusion. Dressed in rags and branded, I suppose any man would be hard to recognize."

He shuffles his wings to a more comfortable tight-feathered fold, which sends the yellow cloak rippling around his otherwise bare body.