"We'll take care of it."

"Thank you," she says, and eats her food.

She should probably come up with another line of conversation but it's kind of hard when nobody else wants to talk.

Yeah.

She's just proud of herself for making it through this without needing to cast a spell on herself. She can think of things to say, but she can't think of anything that's safe.

Eventually she's eaten about all she wants. And then she just sits.

He stands up and walks over and puts his hand on her shoulder. "Let's go."

Nod.

She follows him.

His rooms aren't that different from hers. The bed's bigger. The alter has been removed. 

"Do you need anything?"

"I'm not sure what exactly qualifies as a need, here. Nothing immediate."

He pulls her onto the bed and hugs her.

"I know it's an awful place."

She stiffens involuntarily, but doesn't stop him. She doesn't say anything.

He just wants to lie here holding his wife. Probably he needs to think of something to say, though. 

"You're very brave, you're doing really well."

She tries to think of something to say to that, but nothing feels safe. She wants to say that she doesn't know why he keeps saying this. She wants to ask him how long it's going to be even though she knows he doesn't have any new information. She wants to ask him what her life is going to consist of. She wants to know if there's any way to contact Fazil.

She doesn't say anything.

Hug. 

Kiss?

She pulls away and stands up and stays there, for a moment, and then casts a spell on herself.

" - what happened -"

"I realize that - I understand that none of this is your fault. But - I don't know anything about who you are, right now."

"What do you want to know?"

" - I don't know? Whether I can trust you, and what I can trust you with? How you react to things? Whether you're aiming for Hell, now?"

"I don't think it's really about aiming, right, the helm just overrides whatever Pharasma previously wanted to do with you. I don't really think that throwing Osirion's coffers at orphans would change anything. I'm not planning to do that, if that's what you're asking? We might have a war on our hands, we'll need it."

"I just - 

"I cannot actually predict anything you're going to do right now."

"I was planning to lie in bed and kiss my wife and reassure you about things and eventually spell us to sleep."

"I guess this isn't, like, inherently terrible."

"Come back to bed, Korva. I haven't grown fangs and I still love you and this is hard enough without my wife treating me like I have the plague. We don't have to kiss, if it's upsetting."

"...okay."

She can come back to bed, then. 

At least the spell will make this less upsetting for a few more minutes.

Patpat. 

"Who're the mourning clothes for?"