Yeah, she can tell. Inaaya's usually more talkative than this. "You're being very quiet about it." (Which is, itself, worrying. Don't not tell me things that happened with one of Walker's men --)

Inaaya will take the opportunity to tell her about Early Modern English.

She can listen to Inaaya talk about Early Modern English for a while, and then she says, "What happened with White."

"We just talked."

"We went on a hike."

"He's friends with someone named Lev Aarons who's from the cult in the early 1920s."

That is not what Joan was asking. They both know that is not what Joan was asking.

"The more you don't tell me things because you think I'll be worried about them, the more worried I am."

"It's really nothing. I didn't say anything I'm not supposed to say. He's sweet. He-- doesn't like the social bullshit. I like him. I want to spend time with him again."

You don't work for Walker if you're sweet. And if you work for Walker, and you're being unexpectedly nice to Inaaya specifically, nice enough that she thinks the thing Joan is worried about is that she might have said something she wasn't supposed to --

She puts down the gun she was cleaning and hugs her bird. "You'll be careful?"

"I'll be careful."

"You forget that I can kill people with my brain."

"I know you can." The worry is that she won't. "But be careful anyway."

"I will. I'll stay safe, I promise."

Joan hugs her tighter, and considers all the reasons that's a terrible thing to promise.

On April fifth, Oswald returns to the hotel room after a day of studying magic.

At the spot where two floorboards meet, the wood itself flexes and opens to reveal rows of yellow human teeth and a pair of flabby orange lips. They mouth words at him, and a tongue works behind the teeth to tap out wet sounds. 

Going to stumble backwards the moment he sees that thing. Oh god why do they still look so horrible.

He cannot make himself walk back into the room and he cannot tear his eyes away from it.

Are the words... intelligible?

It says, Lev. Oswald.

Lacie. Lacie. Lacie.

That is ILLEGAL. He can barely breathe.

Araari goes back to Ethiopia. The Knights' understanding of what's going on is... confused... but there is a knight here, one who's willing to help, and her own mental state is getting increasingly fragile.

She makes sure to give Magnificence extra goodbye pats before she goes.

The next time they hang out, they go on a walk around Valletta. Talk about math and languages and Shakespeare and India. Carefully avoid the topic of the cult. Buy pastries and espresso in one of the little cafes.

Inaaya has been to many countries and has very strong opinions about the food in all of them. "White people do not use enough spices," she says through a mouthful of pastry. "I don't understand why you colonized our countries specifically to get spices, oppressing millions of people, and then didn't even use spices."

Mordred has been to very few countries and he can't say the food was the first thing on his mind in Ethiopia. "If I had an answer I would tell you, but regrettably I do not."

"Turkey has good food," Inaaya says. "Turkey understands how much spice you should put on food. The only white people who are allowed to engage in cooking."

"Polynesian was interesting. I would not say I liked it per se but they certainly do do a lot of things with bananas. And fish. Have you had breadfruit?"

"I have not." How many places has she been to.

"It is a fruit that smells like bread and tastes like a potato. It is an absolutely bizarre eating experience."

"That does sound bizarre."

At some point he is going to have to decide whether to admit he hasn't been doing this for very long but that point doesn't need to be right now and listening to Inaaya is nice.

"Siam has good food, obviously, although Joan can barely eat any of it, she lives on rice and loses ten pounds every time we're there. And of course everyone else has been so many more places than I have so they can all get into arguments about the quality of food in Rome or South Dakota."

"You'd hate South Dakota," he says instantly. "Or at least you'd hate the food there. New York you might not hate, we get more immigrants, but you'd hate South Dakota."

"Joan tells me it's the best food in the world."