Jane groaned as a sudden burst of light struck her straight in the face. She didn't want to wake up yet. She opened her eyes the tiniest bit and saw the hour condemningly glaring down at her. She let out another groan.

"It's only nine in the damned morning!" she protested to the empty, messy house. "I went to bed at five! I'm entitled to my eight hours!"

"You would be," a cold, merciless voice responded, "if you went to bed at a respectable hour. Onoelle and Mentuc have been up since six." Then, seemingly added as an afterthought, "And they consider that sleeping in."

Jane grunted in disgust. She knew that it hadn't been an afterthought. The mysterious contact that spoke to her through the blackbox — a tiny marvel of Imperial technology — had a razor sharp mind and delighted in getting under her skin.

"And no", the bodiless voice pre-empted, "ordering the chronological events of Operation River Delta is not a valid excuse. You most definitely could help it, and you should have gone to bed the first time I reminded you. Not the eighty-seventh."

The Historian had lost the ability to be surprised at the woman's ability to almost magically predict what she was going to say. "You did keep telling me about them, though," she shot back, throwing the box an accusing glare.

"Yes," the voice said, a level of smugness sneaking into it. "I most certainly did. Now get up and start your day." The words were accompanied with all the automated shutters slamming open, causing the previously darkened bedroom to be fully bathed in light. Jane threw her arms up with a scream and a curse, tried to simultaneously raise her arms in an attempt to shield her from the sudden light, and rear back from it. The result was that she ended up tangled in her bedsheets and fell off the bed with a painful bang.

All in all, it did not even reach the top ten of worst ways she'd woken up since her entire series of misadventures had begun. Something something best intentions…

A few hours later a bedraggled looking Jane dragged herself over to her friend's house, still feeling very much sorry for herself. She had been neglecting her grocery runs again, and as a result was now without tea. Starting a day without a cup of liquid gold meant the day might as well not start at all. When she barged in through the open door and saw the kettle already on, she nearly collapsed on her friend in an only slightly exaggerated display of relief and gratefulness.

"I don't get how you keep doing it," Leonne teased, a sure sign of her custodian having tattled. "I know she keeps nagging you to go to bed early. And we go to Agitana often enough." The woman, her long-time friend ever since university, was happily running through a small smattering of household chores. At one point it had been an issue between her and her husband, as he persistently took care of everything and left her to sit still and be pretty. Once the pleasantness of being spoiled rotten had worn off, it had begun to irk her friend something fierce. It was resolved now, though, after a brief yet intense argument.

She and Leonne had been, for many years, thick as thieves. They had lived together for the full duration of their stay at university, crammed together, went on drinking binges, did stupid and silly things typically reserved for youngsters, and made some questionable decisions, not least of which being Leonne's recurring habit to get into trouble with boys she should have studied in her professional capacity as a psychiatrist rather than date. That had come to a head when one such problem case had kidnapped her, and only Jane's timely intervention and rapid calling of the police had kept anything truly bad from occurring. Leonne's parents had allowed her to finish her studies rather than dragging her back home and forbidding her from leaving the village ever again, but it had been a narrow thing.

So, when Jane had suddenly heard of Leonne getting married after a few years of no-contact, out of the blue and without being invited, it had set off alarm bells. She had set off on a mission to check up on her friend, and, if need be, drag her to safety, the woman willing or not. When she had first met the inscrutable husband in the form of Mentuc, her suspicions hadn't been lessened. The man moved in a strange, robotic fashion, was constantly wearing sunglasses and spoke as if he didn't have his full mental faculties. He also kept Leonne from visiting the city and they even stayed away from the village most of the time, visiting only for necessities or for Leonne to visit her parents. Jane had been worried. That worry had escalated to full blown panic when she began to suspect he had Imperial heritage. She had accused him of it, her own hatred for them fuelled by them laying waste to her ancestral home of the Novic Confederacy and the consequential brutal ending of a not insignificant part of her family tree, when he had suddenly asked very pointed questions about admirals and battle groups and a race she had never heard of, the Kra'lagh, which had supposedly been the Empire's enemy. Being a Historian herself, a profession whose main raison d’être was studying the Empire and its countless atrocities, she had challenged his claims. The entire thing had led to her nearly being killed and had set in action a chain of events that had completely overwhelmed her in every definition of the word.

To put a very long story short: she had discovered she had been psionically brainwashed to blindly hate the ancient, long dead nation of the Empire; had tried to murder her best friend; acquired an Imperial black box, a little toy worth literal billions; had become un-brainwashed and had an Imperial shock device that could paralyse her in a heartbeat installed into her spine. She was now somewhere between a prisoner and a guest. On one hand she was not allowed to go to Agitana on her own or venture far beyond the small farm, but on the other hand she had access to live combat footage of the enigmatic Genesis Battalion as well as plenty of other historical archives that no other Historian had. And, officially, she was contracted to help Leonne with treating her husband for whatever mental issues the man had — and those were legion. It paid surprisingly well, and they had given her a house of her own to live in. Built rather, to be correct. The concrete had been still wet when she had moved in.

So all in all just about nothing had gone the way she had expected. She had always been eager for adventure. Or so she had thought. Right up to the point it had hit her square in the face. Now she was dealing with far more than she had been prepared to handle. An Imperial Cult on one hand, if her suspicions about the person on the other side of the black box were correct, a man with Imperial heritage on another, and her best friend whom she deeply cared for on the final side. To say she was in over her head would be the understatement of the century.

Still, she would be lying to herself if she wasn’t also enjoying herself. She had somewhat gotten over the fact that she was a prisoner. As a young girl she had dreamt of being a Historian. A true Historian, one digging up the ancient past in the field. As she grew up into an adult that passion had never waned, but instead it had been dampened by the cruel reality of life. There had been too few job openings in her field, and the truly exciting prospects were barred by her lack of funds, connections or willingness to use her feminine assets to advance. She had been forced to pick up odd jobs to make ends meet, her childhood dream temporarily shelved in favour of more immediate needs.

Now, though… Now she was in the thick of it. She spent every day buried in dataslates, life combat footage, talks with peers… Or she spent it with her best friend. Even Mentuc, terrifying as he was —she couldn’t quite forget how close he had come to murdering her— was beginning to be more of a known factor and had begun to veer away from his original image as a bogeyman. Not when he patiently doted on Cassy and Leonne. Not when she kept seeing him follow her friend around like an overgrown puppy. And, she admitted with difficulty¸ it was hard to hate a man who made the best tea ever.

She sipped her cup, glancing around the house, suddenly noting his absence. “Mentuc out with Cassy again?” she asked.

Leonne seemed to deflate a little, her limbs sagging a little. “Yeah. They’re off to Agitana. Turns out Cassy had gotten him to promise to make her pancakes and they’re off shopping.”

Her eyebrow arched up. “On foot?” The village was half an hour out by vertigo, and several hours by foot. She knew that Mentuc had little issues running that, having seen him done it before, but the young Cassy was a different matter.

Her friend let out a deep sigh as she sat herself down at the table, a steaming mug of coffee in her hands. “Yeah, he’s running there.” When Jane’s eyebrow refused to go down, she elaborated. “She’s sitting on his shoulders.”

Her other eyebrow joined the first. “I thought you were against him showing off physically like that?”

Leonne groaned. “I am,” she replied wearily. “But I’d rather he gets it out of his system this way. Planning the trip to the city is taking a heavy toll on him.”

She shook her head at that, regarding her friend with a mixture of pity and consternation. “You’re the one who married him,” she mocked. “Issues and all. You sure that wasn’t what attracted you to him to begin with?”

Leonne snorted. “You get to complain to me, I get to complain to you.”

Jane felt her face contort slightly at the unfair equation. Leonne had shared some things about her husband so far. About his mental conditioning and behaviour patterns. Things that had weighed heavily on her mind.

She dispelled the bitter, angry thoughts that tried to blame her friend for the predicament she was in, choosing to laugh instead. “Is it stressing him out that much?”

Leonne paused, tactically choosing that moment to take a sip as she got her thoughts together. “Yes,” she eventually said. “You’ve seen how he treats it.”

Jane nodded along. She only saw glimpses, but the way he prepared for it was… Extensive. The young couple had been planning a simple city-trip for months, now, and with every passing day Mentuc seemed even less keen on going than before. Not that he wouldn’t go. Eventually. That much she had gleamed from the man. He was nothing if not determined.

“Is that why he is going to the village so often? Get used to being around more people.”

It was Leonne’s turn to nod. “He hates it,” she sighed, laying her head down onto the table. “He’s trying, void above, he’s trying and I love him for it, but he just can’t get used to it. His mind just stubbornly refuses to calmly accept being surrounded by that many people.”

Jane blinked as the word surrounded summoned up images of Operation River Delta. The Genesis Battalion had allowed themselves to be surrounded by a Kra’lagh invasion force, acting as bait to draw away two hostile divisions, allowing a nearby allied armoured brigade to punch a hole through a blockade.

She shook her head, vowing herself to get some more sleep at her earliest convenience.

“Well,” she consoled her pouting friend. “At least you can’t fault him for effort.”

Cassy gripped Mentuc’s head as she held on for dear life. She had always known her brother-in-law was stronger than he pretended to be. She’d witnessed him saving her from a river, catching falling rocks, dealing with dangerous animals, breaking trees, storming through a wooden wall and many, many more things. None of that had fully prepared her for when, as soon as she was done climbing to her usual spot, he decided to take off like a rocket.

She was bouncing up and down with every step and was still unsure whether to scream in fear or whoop in joy as the landscape darted past her as her steed blitzed past the road. She eventually decided that it was fun and let out a hearty laugh, even as it was cut short as her stomach made hard contact with Mentuc’s head.

Even so she felt incredible. Sitting atop her throne, commanding her noble steed, a true king, well, queen, of the world. At one point she tried to stand up, only to immediately regret it as she slipped off, landing painfully hard on his shoulder. He didn’t even slow down in response, merely grabbing hold of her and juggling her back in place. She laughed her way through the bruises.

Then they were at the outskirts of the village, her brother-in-law breathing heavily while she was totally exhausted and struggling to not fall off his shoulders. She still giggled, though. Mentuc was nice enough to let her catch her breath before he set off into the village proper.

As usual people waved at him as he passed through the broad streets. Over the past months he had come to the village more frequently and she had often tagged along. Not that he ran that fast before! Normally it was a far slower pace. She waved cheerily as they passed by people on the way to the bakery. Until she spotted miss Olva. She immediately fell backwards, trusting in her brother-in-law’s quick reactions to grab hold of her legs to keep her from falling off, as she attempted to hide from her teacher. As she had done the past months. She clasped her hands over her mouth, trying to stifle any and all noises she made. In her mind she already spotted the mountain of homework awaiting her should she be caught.

“A very good morning to you, Mentuc,” came the voice of her nightmares. “And to you, young miss Aidein.”

She climbed back onto his shoulders, giving her teacher a sheepish grin. “Good morning miss Olva.” She ruffles her knuckles on Mentuc’s head. “You should have run away,” she hissed into his ears.

Miss Olva broke out into a broad grin. “Cassy, you are far too old for those theatrics by now.” Her chastising voice contrasted with her grin. Cassy felt herself shrink.

“Yes miss…”

“Come now. I’m not here to pluck you away. Mentuc has been keeping me informed of your progress. I am impressed. And find myself wishing you had put a fraction of that fervour into my classes.”

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That took her by surprise, and she began to preen, before immediately wilting again and studying her brother-in-law’s hair in shame. Then she suddenly shot up, staring at the man below her with wide eyes and an open mouth. “You’ve been telling on me?”

She whooped as Mentuc displaced her by grabbing her leg and holding her upside down in front of him. She looked up, or down rather, and saw him gazing down to her with a stern gaze. “You have duties. They were delegated to me, but the ultimate responsibility remains with miss Olva.” His eyes were invisible behind his sunglasses, but she felt his stern stare. “As such I have a responsibility in turn to keep her informed.”

She crossed her arms, unperturbed by being upside down, and rolled her eyes. “Fiiiiiiiiine,” she relented. She shrieked as he suddenly let go, only to find herself landing on her feet as he caught her shoulder with his other hand and turned her around before she hit the ground.

“Cassy,” came miss Olva’s voice. The teen turned around and came face to face with her teacher. “Have you considered what you would like to do later?”

Once again she was taken off guard. She was looking for a hook, something meant to lure her back to school. Clearly it must have been visible on her face, for the older woman began to laugh again. “It’s something I want you to think about. You’re not too far off from becoming an adult.” Her nose crinkled upwards in mirth. “Even though you are very adamant of disproving that. Regardless, Mentuc has told me of your progress. You have a bright future ahead of you if you keep your studies up. Have you ever considered going into engineering?”

She didn’t know how to respond to that. She had never really considered further studies. She hadn’t even considered being an adult.

Olva’s eyes took on a gentle look. “I don’t want to push you into anything, dear. You should go for something that you enjoy. If you want to continue your studies, that is fine. If you don’t, that’s fine too. Passion will trump education anytime of the day, and a degree is only a piece of paper in the end.” Olva stepped closer and tapped her head with her fingers, sharing a conspiratorial smile. “It’s what in here that counts.” She took a step back and Cassy stared at the ground, feeling a bit humbled. She had always regarded her teacher as an opponent, while the woman really never had been. Miss Olva had always cared deeply for her students, and only wished them the best.

“I’ll think about it, miss,” she promised.

“Good! Now…” her fingers tapped against her chin as she pretended to think. “I do have one piece of homework to assign you.”

Cassy instantly emitted a loud groan. I knew it, she cursed inwardly.

Miss Olva let out a soft chuckle. “When you bump into your fellow students, do exaggerate how much homework you are getting and how hard Mentuc is making you study. I’d rather not have to start chasing after my class.”

“Oh. Oooooh. Sure! Yes miss! I can do that! Homework received!”

Miss Olva let out another deep laugh, eyes twinkling with amusement before wishing them both a good day.

They made only a minor bit of headway towards the bakery when they ran into the next obstacle. Or rather, she ran into them.

“Good morning, Cassy. Good morning, Mentuc,” greeted a warm and husky voice.

“Good morning, Lady Helena,” the pair of them responded.

The Lady was dressed as scantily as ever, quite a clash with the rest of the village. Where Mentuc was ever dressed practically and Cassy eschewed everything that even hinted at her gender, the Lady exuded femininity and seductiveness.

“How are you this fine… day?” she asked, drawling out the word. Cassy almost jumped when she felt Mentuc’s muscles tighten beside her. His behaviour changed instantly. He went from calm, if ill at ease, to radiating danger.

Then she saw the muscles around his eyes change and she felt him looking at her before the feeling subsided a fair bit. She glanced up at him, then at Lady Helena, then back at him. Her mind leapt ahead and understood several things at once. The first was that Mentuc was visiting her at night, in secret. She knew that, because she had been the one who had brought them into contact with one another. The second thing was that Mentuc did not appreciate having that visiting being brought up in public.

What the girl failed to realise, however, was that Mentuc hadn’t picked up on the verbal cue in the slightest. What he had picked up on was the aggressive, hunting tone in her voice, and merely responded in kind. His lenses swirled around, scanning his surrounding, his inhuman eyes hidden behind his glasses. He had spotted a threat in an already compromised theatre. He wanted to move in and eliminate it, but couldn’t. She was an asset still. They were in a public setting. Cassy was not to be exposed to violence.

He glared at her a moment longer, but the woman refused to wilt. If anything she seemed to be encouraged, as if responding proactively to his unspoken threat. He saw her breath quicken and she took a minor step forward. Emotions ran freely in her eyes and goosebumps settled across her skin. Yet he saw no hostility, no anger. It confused him. He hated being confused.

His mind ran through several options. Violence was out of the question. Engaging her on a battlefield of her choosing would be a mistake. If engagement was impossible…

He grabbed hold of Cassy’s hand and stormed past her, leaving a stunned Helena behind, who could only look at the back of the imposing man who had visited her every so often the past months, as he disappeared around the corner.

She let out a soft, chirping laugh as they went. She wondered if he was really angry, or merely angry because it ran the risk of the secret spilling out. The difference mattered to her. She doubted it was the latter, though. She had seduced many men over the years. She enjoyed the thrill of the hunt, to slowly win a person to her side until she got what she wanted. It excited her. Many had come to her, all willingly. Some with trepidation at first, others eagerly. Some openly, others in secret. To some the act of adultery mattered little. To some it had been a game to keep it hidden, yet simultaneously they enjoyed flaunting it, hinting at it. Only scant few had wanted to keep it hidden. Those were the ones who often regretted it, yet they came back too. Oh, there had always been excuses for the latter. And anger when she taunted them with it. Yet it was she who controlled the pace.

She doubted Mentuc fit that category. For one, she was not the one controlling the pace. Not in the slightest. He was fully independent, and only cooperated with her to see his goal fulfilled. He was adorably innocent in a way, yet she knew better than to think him not dangerous for it. He was a breath of fresh air, and she was quite certain his anger was genuine. He had put in a tremendous amount of effort, and no minor amount of money, into acquiring the skills she had eagerly taught him, even if he was still… Mechanical about it. She knew it was a surprise, knew when he’d finally reveal it to his wife, too. No, she would have to be very careful with taunting him about it. During their nightly sessions she had caught a glimpse at his endurance, his carefully controlled strength.

She still would, though. Like a moth drawn to a flame. Most villagers avoided her, their more conservative morals clashing with her own, modern ones. Elders and youngsters alike frowned on her promiscuous habits, even if those who touted it the loudest had been the first to approach her. All were predictable. All were known factors. She knew that this desire for excitement was the reason she had been forced to leave her luxurious life behind, to retire to this quaint village.

She thought about how to proceed, his delightfully dangerous reaction having excited her. She wanted to push his buttons, see how far she could go. But how to proceed? She would have to step carefully. He wasn’t a savvy socialite, and she knew but little of his wife, but she did know her parents.

Yes, she thought with a grin. That would be a good place to start. She decided to finish her shopping later, instead choosing to return to her home. She would have to place a few calls. Change outfits. So much to do… So many rumours to spread. Oh, how I look forward to the culmination of it all.

A loud whoop indicated the return of her husband and her younger sister. She abandoned the laundry and walked to the open door and sighed at what she saw. The shopping trip had visibly gone awry. Mentuc was covered in flour, and an egg besides. Cassy was not looking much cleaner and had the gal to grin up at her from being tangled halfway in his limbs on an uncomfortable descent to the floor.

Rather than comment on anything she simply put pointed towards the shower, telling Cassy to git.

The girl dutifully obliged and she walked up to her husband, taking off his sunglasses to get a good look at him. It was only then that she realised something was up. He was tense. “How was your trip?” she asked him, her eyes revealing worry.

He leaned in and kissed her, her face an open book to him. “Good,” he replied, his fingers pausing briefly, before resuming at a nod from her. He gently tucked a rogue strand of hair behind her ear, getting some flour on her in the process. “We met miss Olva.” In short order he spoke to her about what the teen’s teacher had said, as well as the other people he encountered. He made no mention of Lady Helena, keeping that one hidden. It was not a lie. It was simply omission.

“I met your mother in the bakery,” he said. He looked at the laundry but pushed back his urge to help. For one he was still covered in flour, for another it was not his turn today. He did glance at the kettle on the fireplace, but he relented when she countered that making drinks did not equate proper cooking.

“Oh? How was she?” Onoelle asked, relishing in her husband making small talk. She still kept her eyes on him, though. That tenseness was still present.

“As usual. Asked too many questions. Used simple words.” He paused. “Asked about grandchildren again.”

Onoelle grimaced. Her mother kept treating her husband as if he was of simple mind, and her nagging about grandchildren was… Slowly moving from annoying to infuriating. It was a sensitive topic to her. She was quite sure that whatever genetical wizardry had breathed life into Mentuc and his kin had also left them quite infertile. It was a topic she preferred to avoid, but sooner or later she would have to come clean to her mother. Mentuc, aware that she and her mother often clashed but unaware of the deeper, hidden reasons, simply continued.

“She asked if you were going to be present at the Founding Festival this year. She told me to ask you if you wanted to show up for the dance.”

She froze for a moment. “Presumably with more words than that?”

He nodded. “She told me that you used to be present every year. And that you have been absent ever since we married.”

She gently put her hand on his, earning a curious look. She shook her head softly as she realised he hadn’t understood the hidden remark. Or maybe he had and simply did not care. “It’s nothing,” she said. “Continue.”

“She told me how you used to dance at the Festival every year, how you vied to be the last one dancing. How you tried to dance until the band gave out. That you loved it that much.”

Something was of. She looked at him, intensely so. She hadn’t heard anything different, hadn’t seen him do anything different. Yet she knew him well enough that there had been… something different about him. Something that put him ill at ease. It was more than just the tenseness of before, even though she hadn’t spotted it before.

She shut her mouth before she could ask if it was related to what he was hiding. She knew he was. Cassy hadn’t been able to keep her mouth shut properly enough, and despite that even Jane was aware that Mentuc was up to something, she had forbidden everyone from mentioning it ever again. It was his first time doing such a thing, and her curiosity was running full tilt.

Still. She would not ask. As much as she wanted to ask him — and she knew he would answer her in a heartbeat, for he was literally incapable of lying — she stubbornly refused to, much to Jane’s delight. She delighted in him hiding something from her. It showed a level of improvement in his emotions that she hadn’t seen before. She never entertained the thought that he might be up to something she’d dislike. Just as she had his absolute trust, so he had hers.

“What did you respond?” she asked, letting sleeping dogs lie.

His eyes twinkled. “I did not. Cassy said that she’d take your place.”

“Oh?” she asked. “And how did she say that?”

“She won’t show up, mom,” Mentuc quoted her. “She’s old now and has the farm. But don’t worry, I am still young and spry and will dance the night away in her place!”

She burst out laughing. “Oh really? That’s what she said? Well then, reckon I might have to show up after all. Show the little brat who’s the top dog.”

Something flashed across his face. It was there and gone in the same moment, but she’d spotted it. She did her best to keep it from showing in her face, realised it was a lost cause and decided to give him a quick kiss instead.

Which turned out to last a lot longer than she planned. By the time they broke it off there was a lot more flour on her hair and clothes.

“Will you be alright while I’m there? I’ll be probably gone for two days.” It would be the longest they’d been apart since they got together. He had disliked being away from her at the best of times before. Now he barely dared to let her leave his sights, even at the farm where the other last surviving, sort of at least, Genesis watching over her every moment of the day. And she doubted that Nightmare, as an AI, didn’t have more tricks up her sleeve that she hadn’t mentioned.

“I don’t like it,” he told her bluntly. “But you would love to go.”

She smiled at his reasoning. He never shied away from straight answers. Likely could not give any other to begin with.

“I am not your boss. I am not your superior. I am your husband. Your agreement is a damned factor in this,” he quoted her, referring to a time he did the exact opposite.

Her response came in a giggle. “Damn right it is,” she huffed, pushing out her chest before finding herself caught in another kiss.

“I’ll be nearby,” he whispered softly when he finally broke it off, leaving her slightly breathless. He tilted his head in that questioning manner of his. “It will be good for me, yes?”

“Better if you attended, really…” she suggested, trying to hide her quickening heartbeat. “Agitana doesn’t have that many people compared to the city. Even at the time of the Festival it’s not that busy compared to some of the places I’d like to visit. With you.”

She could see him thinking about it and willed her fingers still, staring at them until they obeyed. They had been planning the trip to the city for months. She was patient, but not made of stone. She didn’t possess the same lifespan to plan things for years on end before moving on them. Though, admittedly, she did sympathise with his reasoning. A panic attack on his end meant a lot of people dead on the other side of the equation. And a lot of trouble that’d follow them both besides. Nightmare might be able to clean up after them, but neither she nor her husband wanted it to come to that point, albeit for very different reasons.

Still, she wanted him to come with her. She loved the people in the village. They were her oldest friends, her neighbours, her family. Sure there were plenty people she didn’t like, as was the case with where-ever you grew up, but even those were close to her heart and despite Jane and Cassy’s near-constant presence, she missed being around people. To have him there with them would be a dream come true.

“I will think about it,” he said, implacable as ever.

She pouted at him and he returned her silliness with another kiss. This one was shorter, more chaste. A simple pressing of the lips together. When he broke it off, he did not pull back much, though. Instead she found his eyes delightfully close to hers. “I love you,” he whispered.

Her face split in a broad smile and she was about to respond to his cheesy line when she heard her sister push the door open. The girl all but stormed into the room and looked around hungrily, before pulling off a far better pouting face than she had ever could. “No pancakes?” she whimpered.

Mentuc simply reached over and picked up another bag. “These are Jane’s groceries,” he told her. “Ensure they are put away properly and that she cleans the house. In return I will turn all the flour we bought into pancakes.”

Cassy glared at the bag, clearly trying to set it on fire with her mind. The girl wasn’t convinced. “You were going to do that anyway,” she shrugged off his offer.

“With whipped cream.”

Onoelle barely had time to blink before her sister was out the door, bag in hand, screaming at Jane to get her head out of her books.

“It keeps surprising me how easily you handle her.”

“She is easy,” her husband shrugged, earning more of her approval. Genesis soldiers did not “shrug” by themselves. “She is very straightforward.”

“Pot, meet kettle,” she giggled, earning her a tilt of his head. “Never you mind, I’ll explain it later. Anyway, how long do you think they’ll be at it?”

“Taken Jane’s behavioural tendencies into account and how the tactics they employ radically differ and do not quite mesh, I estimate at least an hour.”

Onoelle positively beamed at that. He had used a long sentence rather than simply stating the answer. He really was making an effort!

“Well then,” she said. “Plenty of time for you to handle the other Gyhad sibling.”

He tilted his head, which she made use of to stir the bit of egg that had gotten stuck in his hair.

“You got me flour all over me,” she smiled, sliding smoothly into his embrace. “So you better clean it off too.”

Then she kissed him, and all other thoughts were put aside for a while.