Sasha's fingertips lip quivered as they sat in Mantu's office, waiting for him and Pirya to return from the doctor. There was no reason to be here—no reason that she should feel responsible for what had happened to the girl—it was hard not to feel that way, like there was something she could have done to stop it. 

Rannok didn't look at her. Instead he folded his arms and stared at the opposite wall, like he expected it to open and swallow him whole. Sasha had an awful thought of the last time they'd gotten in trouble, when they'd been locked in the police carriage together and towed through town like criminals. Not that he wasn't. It had been his decision to steal from the innkeeper to begin with. But still.

"This isn't your fault, you know," she said. Rannok didn't answer right away. He shifted around in his chair, then picked at the edge of his tunic. The place where the red fish emblazoned across it ended had begun to fray. It looked like his nerves had, too, though given the last few weeks it was hardly surprising. There were shadows under his eyes, and a permanent crease at the corners of his lips.

"For once," he said, after a long pause, and a snort that could have been a laugh. "We wouldn't even be here to begin with if it weren't for me." There was a silent I'm sorry tacked onto the end, one that showed more in his eyes and the slope of his shoulders and the way his wings drooped than his words. 

Sasha wanted to reach and take his hand, but stopped herself before she would. That gesture was too familiar, and it made her stomach hurt, even though she'd done it a million times before. Instead she hugged her arms around her middle and let out a slow breath.

"You didn't mean to," she responded quietly. She turned her face toward his, but he didn't move, just kept staring at the wall. "You try, Rannok. You always try." She took in a shuddering breath. "I wish you'd just—"

She didn't have time to finish her sentence before the door opened, and Mantu strode in, eyes dark like thunder. His mouth screwed up in such a deep frown it made Sasha wince as he slid back behind his desk and slid a piece of paper down on top of it.

"This is your contract," he said to Rannok. He pointed a fat thumb on the paper. "If it weren't for the fact that it forbids it, I would have your arms broken for what you did to my daughter. Do you understand me?"

Rannok's face visibly paled, and he turned his eyes from the wall to Mantu's desk, below the line of the man's gaze. Sasha felt the muscles in her arm tense. 

"Yes, I do," Rannok said, though there was a bit of a quiver in his voice. "I never meant for her to get hurt. I'm sorry."

Mantu's frowned deepened even further, and Sasha shrank back, waiting for the explosion she could feel coming as Mantu leaned over his desk. "I did not ask for an apology," he said, in a voice that was deathly quiet, the words coming out of his mouth in a hiss like a snake's. "As for you." He turned on Sasha. "You'll split my daughter's doctor's fee with this idiot you call a lover. Maybe that will teach you to be more selective. Perhaps if you don't screw up any further, you will be out of here in two years instead of one."

Sasha's face burned. She gave a quick glance over at Rannok. His eyes burned with rage. "She had nothing to do with this."

"She was supposed to be minding the kitchen, you were supposed to be minding my child. If either of you had done your duties my daughter wouldn't be at the local doctor's house with a broken arm. Are we clear? If we aren't I would be happy to get the constable involved."

Sasha opened her mouth to speak before remembering the officer's sword she'd stashed in the bushes. Mantu's eyes bored into hers for a moment before she flinched away, and a cold breath left her mouth. 

"No, there's no need," she replied. Hopelessness crept into her guts. If only she had left the sword behind. She hadn't even needed to use it. She could have followed him on foot and been here just as easily.

"I didn't think so," Mantu said. He stood with a grin and turned back to Sasha. "From now on you'll be solely in charge of the kitchens. Your friend here can help when he's not doing the most laborious tasks Pirya can find, since we clearly can't trust him with our child. She's not pleased with this any more than I am." He sighed. "Pity, we paid good money for that contract, and doubtless Rosa is a better cook. Ah, well."

Sasha opened her mouth to protest, to mention that she didn't know the kitchens or how to cook or clean past basics. She didn't know how to make the stew that Rosa made or how to hang the steak so it didn't attract flies. She squeezed her eyes shut, then flinched when Mantu closed the door with more slamming than was necessary.

All was silent for a moment as they stared ahead, neither looking at the other, though Sasha could see Rannok fidgeting out of the corner of her eye. The air between them grew thick and filled with static. Sasha didn't dare move for fear she might brush against one of his wings by accident.

"That man makes my skin crawl," she said, careful to keep her voice down. Rannok shifted next to her before laying his hand on top of hers. Her breath eased into her lungs with a shiver, but she didn't pull away as he gave it a squeeze.

"We have to figure out a way to get out of here," he said quietly, so the noise wouldn't carry. "Even if you never want to talk to me again afterwards. We can't stay here." He paused, and for a moment they were quiet. "But I hope you do."

Sasha swallowed hard and allowed herself to look at him. For the first time since they'd met, he looked terrified of something other than thunder. Of something other than an irrational concept that she knew couldn't hurt him. And that sent a sliver of fear up her spine, too.

Sasha nodded. Something told her this wouldn't stop with just a medical bill. 

"I wish the crow would come back," she said, then shut her eyes. It was the last thing she thought she'd ever say.