Once a Warden, always a Warden, [ is the cheerful response, before he's had time to think about who she could feasibly be asking after or why, ] except for the Grand Enchanter, who remains a mystery to us all.

[ And this is where his mind catches up. There's a shift in his tone—an attempt not to change it at all, with the resulting strain that artifice always causes him. It's not as damning as if she could see his face, and he's always been fairly good at lying by omission and by piling so many intentionally stupid words on top of the truth that no one notices. But to a trained ear, there's falsity. ]

Otherwise there's a whole list I'd stop counting, personally.