"That is probably why," agrees Etty. "I doubt the fact that I like it enters into it much."

"It does, though," says Nona. "I wouldn't if you didn't."

"What if I was very good at pretending?" asks Etty. "I'm not, but."

"...don't," says Nona. "Don't pretend you like stuff for me. Okay? Don't."

"I'm not even good at it. You'd be able to tell."

"Still don't," she says, "I don't want to have to guess."

"Okay."

"Are you crying?" It's hard to tell in the moonlight.

"Yeah, a little."

"Why?" Etty murmurs.

"I really don't want to be doing something you don't like and not know about it."

"Well - like compared to what - if I were going to do that it would be because I'm desperate," murmurs Etty. "I - I think I like almost anything you could do better than staying here."

"Well, yeah," says Nona, "I like lots of things better than the Baron that I don't actually like at all. But - but don't," she says helplessly.

Etty nibbles her lip, flexes her hurt foot, puts it somewhere more comfortable. "If you can't - satisfy the curse - I don't see another chance. I'm going to turn into a swanbrained - thing - if I can't get out of here - my mind is going to go - and that's the worst part, the worst, even though the rest is -" She shudders. "I don't have long. A few years isn't long."

"I love you," says Nona, hugging her some more.

"I am so afraid," Etty whispers, hugging tight, "that it won't be enough."

"Me too," says Nona. "And even if I did promise - we'd still have to do something about the Baron, after. Or he'd just do it all over again."

"Do you think you could kill him? I don't think I could."

"I think I could," she says. "If I surprised him. I know where to stab somebody so it really hurts."

"Me neither," Nona says wryly. "But I've wanted him dead for a long time."

Etty nods.