“But I don’t think I understand,” said Mizuki. “What you’re describing is a caretaker, or a custodian, or something like that.”
“No,” said Hannah. “Because they don’t necessarily do any caretaking at all.”
“Then what do they do?” asked Mizuki.
“Nothing,” said Hannah. “They just own the building.”
“No,” said Mizuki, shaking her head. “They’d have the building seized from them.”
“Well that’s what I’m tryin’ to say,” said Hannah. “The dwodo don’t have seizure, I’m pretty sure.” Hannah was far from an expert on the dwodo. Her religious studies had been mostly silent on them, perhaps because of the various historical wars against them.
“That’s dumb,” said Mizuki. “So you just live somewhere, you pay a bunch of money, they don’t have to fix things or take care of you, it’s just … renting out things you own, forever?”
“To my understandin’,” said Hannah.
“And the dwodo government doesn’t step in?” asked Mizuki. “I mean, when someone has paid three times what a house is worth, that’s obviously not fair.”
“I’m not sayin’ that it’s a fair or just system,” said Hannah. “You asked what the word meant, and I told you, ay?”
“I just think either you’re explaining it wrong, or I’m understanding the explanation wrong, or it’s stupid,” said Mizuki.
“Could be all three,” nodded Hannah.
Mizuki frowned, but didn’t offer anything more on the subject, instead, looking out the window, where Isra was working in the garden. The plants had been steadily growing, and the garden was doing better than it had any right to, at least by Hannah’s account. They were a full two weeks ahead of anything the neighbors had, helped by both perfect weather and Isra’s encouragement. Almost all of the vegetables they ate in the house now came from the garden. There was a bit too much asparagus for Hannah’s liking, but the rest would come in time.
“How do you think Verity is doing in Dondrian?” Mizuki asked.
“Just fine,” said Hannah. “She’s been practicin’, and I couldn’t hear a single flaw in what she played.”
“You’re not an expert though,” said Mizuki. “I mean, I’m not either, but how would we know whether she was making mistakes?”
“It’s a crowd of two thousand,” said Hannah. “How many experts do you think will be among them? A dozen, perhaps? Oh, they’ll have some feel for whether it’s good or not, but they won’t notice the minor things that Verity seems to obsess over.”
“So it doesn’t matter how well she does?” asked Mizuki.
“I don’t know,” said Hannah. “My understandin’ of the arts has always been that it’s about who you know and how you get marketed rather than the art itself, so long as it’s above a certain quality. And that might sound like sour grapes, or a cynic’s view, but think about the concert, ay? Two thousand people, a sold out theater, and why? It’s not on the strength of Verity as an artist, it couldn’t be, she’s been missin’ for nine months. Perhaps some people remember hearin’ her a long time ago, and more will come because they think that her bein’ Chosen means that it will be special, but mostly it’s because her mother got some good articles printed in various papers, and because there’s buzz in the air.”
“I guess,” said Mizuki. “I mean, I don’t know how it is in a bigger city like Plenarch, let alone Dondrian. But I thought that you liked her music?”
“I do,” said Hannah. “Nothin’ I’ve said should be taken to mean that I don’t love her, that I don’t believe in her, that I don’t think she’s a revelation when it comes to music, though I do have to say that I don’t know a single thing about music. All I’m sayin’ is that she’s at a high enough level that most of what people come for isn’t the music. At least, that’s my thinkin’ on the matter. Applies to all art, really, there’s loads of great things that no one ends up noticin’, and a rare few that get famous even though they’re not all that good.”
“But Verity is one of those great musicians who everyone also says is great, and it happens to line up?” asked Mizuki.
“I suppose,” said Hannah. “I don’t have a whole general theory on what’s good and what’s not, I just think sometimes people get elevated when the masses can’t tell the difference.”
“I don’t think she’d like you saying any of that,” said Mizuki with a frown.
“No, I s’pose not,” said Hannah. It was clear that Mizuki was more concerned with what it sounded like than the object level of what they were talking about, and Hannah could admit that it didn’t sound like she believed in Verity, though of course that hadn’t been the point at all. Verity would do fine, at least at the playing. Whether she’d do fine with her mother, or whether she’d be fine after, that was more in question.
Mizuki looked over in the direction of the front door, then took a gulp of her tea, which was probably now tepid. “Are you nervous?”
“Nervous?” asked Hannah.
“Vertex,” said Mizuki.
“Oh,” said Hannah. “No, not at all. They have Alfric backing them up, don’t they?”
“I’m not sure it was a good idea for Verity to have her concert on the same day that Vertex is doing a dungeon,” said Mizuki. She set her cup down. “I mean, it feels like we should have a safety net for both of them, right?”
“Not somethin’ that Alfric discussed with Verity,” said Hannah. “Or at least, I don’t think so. And how would that work anyway? If she had some calamitous failure on the night of the concert, it would almost certainly be nerves or some such, and to tell her ‘it was so much a disaster I had to turn back time’ would do nothin’ for her self-confidence and ability to perform.”
“I guess,” said Mizuki. She looked at the door again.
“Are you nervous?” asked Hannah. “About Vertex?”
“No,” said Mizuki. “I mean, it is their first time, and Kell’s never done a dungeon with a group, and yeah, I’m nervous.”
“Marsh will be by when they’re done,” said Hannah. “I’m not worried. And if he doesn’t come by to let us know, then it’s not like they’re dead, right?”
“Cold comfort,” said Mizuki. “I mean, if they die and Alfric undoes it, that would be a strike against the team, right? And if it happens the fake first time, then it’s probably going to happen again the second first time, and then it all just falls apart. Which means that Marsh wouldn’t stick around the area anymore.”
“Ah,” said Hannah. “Though … I do think he might, if I asked.”
“Oh ho,” said Mizuki, whose eyes lit up. “Just a casual fling, was it?”
Hannah waved a hand. “Yes yes, get your kicks in, I was wrong, it’s very funny.”
“It is very funny,” Mizuki grinned. “I’m so looking forward to the wedding.”
“Speakin’ of,” said Hannah. “I stopped by the general store this mornin’ and Bethany seemed a bit nervous about the whole thing.”
“Not surprising,” said Mizuki. “They rushed into it, and even if they hadn’t, I can’t imagine making that kind of commitment to another person. Plus it’s going to be a huge wedding. I hope she’s doing okay.”
“You could talk to her,” said Hannah. “You’re close friends, aren’t you?”
“I guess,” said Mizuki. “Though I think I would need a better pep talk than just saying ‘oh hey that sounds really scary to me, I wouldn’t go through with it’. Plus I’m not really invested in it working out, you know? I mean, why should I care one way or another? I don’t know if they’re a good couple, I haven’t talked to any of the Pedder boys since we had our falling out.”
“It seemed to me that she was hopin’ for someone to talk her into it,” said Hannah. “And I had some clerical advice, but I’m not yet friends with her, more an acquaintance. Support, that’s what she needs.”
“I suppose,” said Mizuki. “And do you have some clerical advice on how to do that?”
“Not in particular,” said Hannah. “I don’t think she’s seekin’ counsel, just wants someone to sit and listen to her, and maybe to say that she’s a good person who things will shake out for.” Hannah had tried to do that, but it wasn’t the sort of relationship they had. Hannah barely knew Bethany, as much as the girl liked to talk.
“Even if they might not shake out?” asked Mizuki.
“You’ve been spendin’ too much time with Alfric,” said Hannah with a laugh.
“Well I just mean … me going to Bethany and lying about how I think her marriage is going to go doesn’t seem like it helps anyone,” said Mizuki.
“So you think it will go poorly?” asked Hannah with a raised eyebrow.
“I don’t know!” said Mizuki, throwing up her hands. “I’ve never been married.”
“Well, just be there and make some sympathetic noises for the poor girl,” said Hannah. “She’d appreciate it.”
“Alright,” said Mizuki. “Will do, unless this winds up being an undone day.” She glanced at the door again. “How long does it take to do a dungeon anyway?”
“I’ve just as much experience as you do, so goin’ off what we’ve done in the past, anywhere from an hour to five days,” said Hannah. “Though an hour is bein’ pretty generous, and would assume that there’s nothin’ too much to take, and that they breeze through the fights, and I’m not sure we’ve ever squeaked in under an hour, because Alfric is too meticulous.” ‘Fussy’ would have been a less polite way of saying it.
“So they might not come in until just before dark,” said Mizuki.
“Or after dark, if they’re being inconsiderate,” shrugged Hannah.
“I don’t know how you can be so calm about this,” said Mizuki. “I mean, you care about Marsh, right?”
“I do,” nodded Hannah. “But I have more acquaintance with death than you do. I’ve given funeral rites a few times. It happens. We die, our souls move on to the Spirit Gates, and then to wherever after.”
“Yeah,” said Mizuki with a sigh. “But it’s not — I mean, you’re still dead.”
Hannah nodded. “Ay.” There wasn’t all that much else to say to that. What happened when a person died was still a mystery. Hannah hadn’t had cause to do a spirit walk, which was usually reserved for only the most important or troubled spirits, but she thought that when the time came, she would do some reflection on what the afterlife might mean. The nearest Spirit Gate was more than five hundred miles away, and the spirit walk would take more than a month. Of course, Hannah wasn’t a proper cleric anymore, so the only way she’d do a spirit walk was if she volunteered, and especially with Alfric around, it wasn’t likely that anyone in Pucklechurch would die a premature death. There was a part of Hannah that was hoping that Mizuki might initiate a dialog on such things, so that Hannah would at least have a use for her learning, but after a moment, it was clear that she’d have no such luck.
“Kell has been comin’ around a lot,” Hannah offered.
“Yeah,” said Mizuki. “He’s going to be helping me with the wizard stuff, laying some of the groundwork at least so I can get going on making the cup thing.”
“And have you worked out the logistics of makin’ a commute to Plenarch?” asked Hannah.
“I talked about it with Alfric,” said Mizuki. “And it’s not looking all that simple. In theory, I could leave the dagger there, teleport to it in the morning, then climb into the chest and have it whisk me back to Pucklechurch, but I’d have to wrap the chest in the blanket to reduce its weight, and … I don’t know, it sounds all kinds of complicated, and it would still take a fair bit of time for the chest to race back here at full speed, and no one could use the chest, blanket, or dagger while I was at school.”
“No big loss, so far as I’m concerned,” said Hannah. “Though I think if you took the helm with you, that might be a step too far.”
“But I love the helm,” said Mizuki, pouting. “And alright, fine, that makes sense, it’s just … I don’t know. I’m not sure about being a wizard, and now everyone feels like they’re throwing their weight behind it.”
“Is Alfric?” asked Hannah.
“Well, kind of,” said Mizuki. “He’s not being super supportive, but he’s trying to find a way to make it work, and he hasn’t said that it’s a terrible idea, or made me feel bad about wanting to do it.”
“And I know that Verity probably hasn’t said a word to you, given the pressure she’s under,” said Hannah. Verity had been downright taciturn after their return from Plenarch. “Is it Isra then, that’s givin’ you this encouragement?”
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“It’s mostly been Kell,” Mizuki admitted.
This was not at all a surprise. “He’s been overly supportive?” asked Hannah.
“I don’t know,” said Mizuki. “I mean, he’s been regular supportive, I think, it’s just that we’re friends now — or again, I guess — and I know from his perspective this seems like something fun for us to do together?”
“And you don’t think that?” asked Hannah with a raised eyebrow.
“I don’t really like people teaching me things,” said Mizuki. “The teacher and student thing, it’s not for me. Even teaching Isra how to cook, that’s been hard for me, being on the other end.”
“And yet you spend so much time with Alfric, learnin’ all sorts of things from him, and you’ve signed yourself up for wizard college,” said Hannah.
“Yeah,” sighed Mizuki.
“Not too late to back out,” said Hannah, though she meant it more as a question.
“Honestly, I think I’m going to make an awesome wizard,” said Mizuki. “It’s going to be so cool.”
“And if you don’t have the aptitude?” asked Hannah. “Isn’t that the stickin’ point for most people?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” said Mizuki. “It would kind of be a weight off my chest, a way of saying ‘oh hey, I guess that’s not for me, but I gave it a shot’.”
“I think if that’s what you want, maybe it’s not somethin’ to spend too much time on?” asked Hannah.
“Nah,” said Mizuki. “This is sort of like when you make plans with someone, then feel a bit relieved when they cancel on you, because it’s something that got taken off your plate?”
“But in this case, a years-long education,” said Hannah.
“Right,” said Mizuki. “It would be weird if I didn’t feel relieved over such a big thing being gone.” She tensed up, then relaxed. “Marsh is here.”
Hannah looked toward the door and saw that it was true. Marsh and Kell both had come, and Kell gave a brief wave before opening the door.
“You made it!” said Mizuki. “Wait, did you make it?”
“We’re not ghosts, if that’s what you’re asking,” said Kell.
“No, I mean, it’s just the two of you, so maybe one of your other party members had died, or lost an arm or something, and you wanted a reset,” said Mizuki. “But I’m guessing that didn’t happen.”
“No,” said Kell. He sat down on a chair in the living room, and Marsh sat beside Hannah, giving her a squeeze. “It was a fine dungeon run, a good start, I think. Is Alfric in? I wanted to let him know that he doesn’t need to wait on us.”
“Which I could have handled,” said Marsh with a glance at Kell. “Which we could have done through the marble, in fact, if I wasn’t coming over to visit.”
Kell shrugged. “I thought you would want to see our loot.”
“I would love to see your loot,” said Mizuki. “Anything good?”
“Not really,” said Marsh. “Stuff we’ll sell, and a bunch of ectad materials.”
“Hammer,” said Kell, pulling something out of the bag slung around his shoulder. Hannah couldn’t help but notice that it was similar to the heavy bag that Mizuki normally carried around. The hammer itself had a wooden handle and a large metal head, with the back of the hammer’s head having curled bits for removing nails.
“What’s it do?” asked Mizuki.
“So far what we think is that it will remove the nails and glue from anything you tap with it,” said Kell.
“And we do mean remove, since we couldn’t find the nails anywhere,” said Marsh. “Not really what you want.”
“Nah, it’s great,” said Kell. “We’re going to be able to reclaim a whole lot of wood and tile from the dungeons from here on out, it’s a boost to how much we make.”
“I didn’t get into dungeons to strip every last thing,” said Marsh. He looked at Hannah. “No offense.”
“None taken,” said Hannah. “Though we did make a tidy haul, so I thought the labor was quite worth it, in that case.” It was so much money that her mind had immediately turned to what she should buy with it. She’d opened up a bank account rather than taking it out: it was the sort of money that was best spent on something either truly important or incredibly high value.
“I haven’t even bought anything with it,” said Mizuki. “I feel like I should have spent at least half of it while we were in Plenarch. But there’s also not all that much that I really want, and at a certain point money is just … I don’t know. Pointless.”
“In my experience, that’s never been true,” said Marsh. “We’ve made a good bit doing dungeons, but there’s always some new entad, and those can get ridiculously expensive. A mobile home is one of the big ones that’s on my list, and for that, depending on what’s available … you have to have a lot.”
“If I had a house that could move with me, I would never give it up,” said Mizuki.
“That’s the problem, ay,” said Hannah. “An entire house might be a little much to ask.”
“Your party is already most of the way there,” said Kell. “The garden stone, the trunk, and the book together are a mobile operating station. All more entads would get you is convenience.”
“I wouldn’t want to live in the garden stone,” said Mizuki. “And from what the others said, it wasn’t a great experience.”
“But you’d only need to sleep there,” said Kell. “Everything else, you could go out for.”
“You sorely underestimate how much cooking I do,” said Mizuki.
“Can’t bake in the garden stone either, or at least you shouldn’t,” said Hannah.
“For my own tastes, I think I could be fine living in the trunk,” said Kell. “If I could have some way to sleep standing up, anyway, or have some way to sleep curled up without getting cramped.”
“That sounds awful,” said Mizuki. “Like some kind of Red Ages torture. Where would you go to the bathroom?”
“Yeah, that would be a problem,” said Kell. “But I don’t have the chest, so it’s kind of moot, I was just saying that a single very small room with enough space for a bed, hammock, or something like that would be all I’d require.”
Hannah was skeptical. “We spent nearly a week in the garden stone,” she said. “It wore on us all, I think, for various reasons.”
“That’s different though,” said Kell. “You couldn’t leave, not unless you wanted to go into the dungeon. Here, I’m talking about having maybe a small plot of land, spending time out in the world when you don’t need to be home to sleep.”
“Or cook, or bathe, or whatever,” said Mizuki with a frown.
“All stuff you can handle with entads,” said Kell with a shrug.
“Entads for bathing?” asked Mizuki.
“They’re actually pretty common,” said Marsh. “As much as cooking, I think, though they’re more boring, in my opinion. We have three or four, depending on how you count.”
“You know, we still haven’t gotten our knick knacks from your stash,” said Mizuki. “Would one of those count?”
“Nope,” said Marsh. “Actually useful stuff is off limits. And Grig does want you to come by and get that stuff, mostly because we’re putting all of it into storage soon.”
“Will do,” said Mizuki. She stretched out on the couch. “Okay, so tell me about the dungeon.”
Marsh stretched out too, putting an arm around Hannah. “It was a wide layout,” he said. “First room had six doors, which meant that we had to spend some time securing it, and there was a good chance of it going wrong. But from there … we’re stacked on offense, and with two wizards, we have a good ability to deal with practically anything.”
“You’re terrible at telling stories, if that was supposed to be a story,” said Mizuki.
“Josen and I divide up duties, at least for now,” said Kell. “I poke holes in things, he’s more on the wide area side of things. It was mostly single targets through the dungeon though, so I was running low by the end. Josen had built things out so that he could switch over and compensate, and Marsh ended up roasting more than his fair share of things.”
“Kell pulled his weight,” said Marsh. “Don’t think otherwise. Though I did end up burning an entad up, a book, apparently.”
“I’m not sure what we can do differently next time,” said Kell, placing a hand on the back of his neck. “I think it was largely down to the distribution we ran into. I don’t think I could have been more efficient with where and when I was firing, or with my build, though Josen wants to go over it.”
“We found some ectad materials,” said Marsh, moving on quickly from a subject that was bringing a frown to Kell’s face. Marsh was more perceptive than he looked, and though he wasn’t the group’s peacemaker — that would be Grig — he had his hand in lubricating away some of the growing frictions in the party, without necessarily even knowing that was what he was doing. That was Hannah’s read on him, anyway. “Forcestone, which is mostly worthless, but not quite so worthless that we didn’t have to wrangle it into the rope.”
“Which one is forcestone?” asked Mizuki.
“It generates force?” asked Marsh.
“Well I figured from the name, but … I don’t really understand what the point of it is,” said Mizuki.
“There’s not much,” said Kell. “Hence them being pretty worthless. There are problems with storage and problems with how they project force and other problems. You can use them as noisemakers, but it’s just a single solid tone.”
“Why would you want that?” asked Mizuki.
“Tuning instruments,” said Kell with a shrug. “You keep them in a velvet container so they don’t fill your house with sound, then pull them out to get perfect pitch. I think that’s it.”
“Used for some religious rites as well,” said Hannah. “And you can play them, with the right set up, though it’s quite expensive, since you need an ectad for every note. The stones can get quite loud, depending on how they’re built, so you see them sometimes replacin’ an organ or whatever. I think one of the churches in Dondrian has one. Not sure how they work, precisely, but it’s somethin’ we could ask Verity about.”
“Oh, that’s right,” said Marsh. “The concert is tonight. How’s it going?”
“There’s some time yet,” said Hannah. “We haven’t heard anythin’ from her, and I don’t expect we will until late at night. We’re keepin’ the party channel silent for her, so she can focus on the night ahead. Course, this is the first of many, so I s’pose we’ll see.”
Alfric came down the stairs and looked at Marsh and Kell. “Everything go well?”
“As well as could be expected,” said Kell. “Took a few hits, but nothing that Mardin couldn’t handle.”
“What kind of hits?” asked Alfric. He had his arms folded across his chest. Hannah couldn’t tell whether it was mild disapproval or whether he was just focused on talking shop.
“There were these guys, dun-colored skin, four arms and no legs,” said Marsh. “They had bandoliers filled with tiny throwing knives, and threw what had to be hundreds at us, one after the other.” He clucked his tongue. “I got one in the forehead, right where my helm doesn’t cover, and Kell got one in the pit of his elbow. Not the worst injury I’ve ever had, but it was definitely a refreshing reminder that this is dangerous work.”
“I actually got one in the leg too,” said Kell. He leaned forward and lifted up his pant leg to show off a small scar. “Better armor is definitely on the list.”
“Do you want that taken care of?” asked Hannah. “Better not to have scars, they can impede future healin’.”
“It would be appreciated,” said Kell. “It’s not a particularly good scar.”
It didn’t take Hannah long to remove any trace of Kell’s scar. She didn’t particularly like the talk of ‘good scars’, in part because they were almost always asymmetrical. Bethany had kept a scar on her leg from a dungeon run, and Hannah had silently clucked her tongue at that, but she could understand some sentimentality. She’d never had a mark left by trauma that she’d wanted to keep, but she did still have the henling key that they’d taken from that first dungeon, and it was special to her.
“Anything of note from the dungeon?” asked Alfric. “I was working upstairs, but I heard something about ectad materials.”
“Nothing exciting,” said Kell. He pulled the hammer back out of his bag. “This unnails things, and removes glue, which might be helpful for reclaiming wood. But that’s about it. We got a sword we’re never going to use — nine feet long, too long to really do anything with — and Marsh got a whistle.”
“It summons my cat, Darwin,” said Marsh with a smile. He reached into his pocket and pulled the whistle out. “Totally useless, and we probably need to be careful with it, because he got pulled out of our home in Dondrian and needs to make his way back.” He put the whistle to his mouth, then let it drop. “It’s fine if I summon a cat here, right?”
“Where is he now?” asked Hannah.
“Over in Liberfell,” said Marsh. “We got him situated at the hotel. Here, you’ll see.” He blew the whistle, and a giant dog appeared in the middle of the living room.
“Hey, I know this cat,” said Mizuki, coming forward to pet it.
“That’s — is that Emperor?” asked Alfric, looking down at the dog.
“Yup,” said Mizuki, scratching his neck. “Aw, he just wanted to visit us.”
“Huh,” said Marsh, looking at the whistle. “I clearly misunderstood the entad. I swear this summoned Darwin a few times in a row.”
“Who is this dog?” asked Kell. He had stepped well back.
“It’s our family dog,” said Alfric. “From Dondrian. So now there are two animals that need to get back to the city.” He sighed. “I guess I’ll have to send out a guild message and have my dad pick the dog up.”
“Aw, but he can stay with us for a bit, right?” asked Mizuki. She looked up at Alfric. “This poor dog gets no attention at home.”
“I don’t want my parents to reset the day because the dog is missing,” said Alfric.
“I guess I’m going to have to take this to a cleric and get it identified,” said Marsh, frowning and looking at the whistle. “In my defense, I was thinking of Darwin when I blew it.”
“How many people here know Emperor?” asked Kell.
“All of us aside from you,” said Alfric. “So it might be collective knowledge, or … something.”
“Well, it’s doubly useless then,” said Marsh, putting the whistle away.
“It’s niche,” nodded Alfric.
The door to the backyard opened up, and Isra stepped inside. “Why is Emperor here?” she asked. She was wearing a yellow sundress with a broad-brimmed hat, her gardening gloves tucked under one armpit.
“Who is this?” asked Marsh, looking at Hannah. She rolled her eyes, and Marsh looked back at Isra. “Oh, Isra.” She gave him a slight smile. “You look really good, I like the change.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I got some new clothes in Plenarch.”
“It’s nice,” said Marsh. “Not what I’d have expected. Sorry I didn’t recognize you.”
Isra gave him a wide smile. She’d been doing that more, smiling, and it seemed to Hannah that this was quite deliberate. Maybe Isra had been smiling internally this whole time, but she was now making a production of it, showing outwardly what she had been feeling. It had been some time since Hannah had sat down with Isra for a serious talk, and Hannah felt that it was overdue — but she didn’t want to indulge in clerical overreach.
“Do you two want to stay for dinner?” asked Mizuki. “I should have just enough food for you. I picked up an extra chicken breast in case Verity came home early, and then another one for a guest.”
“If you don’t mind,” said Marsh. “Otherwise it would be eating from a restaurant in Liberfell for me, and your cooking is better.”
“You flatter,” said Mizuki with a smile. “Do you like mint?”
“Mint chicken?” asked Marsh. Mizuki nodded. “I … can’t say that I’ve had it.”
“It’s good,” said Kell. “Or at least, it was when I had it in Kiromo, and I assume you’ll make it similar to that. And yes, I’ll stay for dinner, if you’re offering.”
“Wonderful,” said Mizuki. “Verity doesn’t know what she’s missing.”
While Mizuki went to prepare dinner, Hannah went upstairs with Marsh. The pretense was that she wanted to heal his scars, not that they really needed a pretense.
“You laid it on thick with Isra,” said Hannah.
“Too thick?” asked Marsh. “I didn’t recognize her, not at first, I was just playing it up a bit.”
“Why?” asked Hannah.
“She’s trying something new,” said Marsh. “That always feels a bit awkward.” He rubbed his chin. “I didn’t always have this beard. I grew it out with an entad when I was sixteen. I think it looks good on me, makes me look older, but when I first got it, people would just say ‘oh, you have a beard’ and then move on from it, which always made me a bit self-conscious. I’d have killed for a compliment. I just wanted Isra to feel good, that’s all.”
“Well, I do like your beard,” said Hannah. She moved her hand forward to cup his face. “I feel like you’d look naked without it.”
“Naked … in a bad way?” asked Marsh.
“Mmm,” said Hannah. “I s’pose that does need some clarification.” She placed her hand on his chest. “You know, we do have some time before dinner. And in my clerical opinion, you’re in fit shape.”
“Ah,” he said, resting his hand on hers. “The dungeon took a lot out of me. Not physically so much, but — can we just lay here? I know that’s not what you’re with me for —”
“It’s fine,” said Hannah. She sank into him. “You know I do care about you, don’t you?”
“I do,” said Marsh. “I just don’t like to let you down.”
“You haven’t let me down yet,” said Hannah. “Here’s to hopin’ that you don’t start.”