She considers this, then nods, only a little mechanically.

"So it wasn't - none of that was, was - it was all real?"

"Yeah. I hate lying and try to do as little of it as possible. I just - left some things out. Like the rest of the elements of my self-dedication, and the fact that I built a lot more than just that one library."

"And you had - nothing to do with the, the." She fails to form sentences again. Okay, that's fine. Stop, start over. Form coherent concepts. "And you didn't have anything to do with the clusterfuck that was." Her voice catches a little, but she presses on. "My week?"

"Heard about your brother a couple of hours ago, somebody just happened to be discussing recent executions. Looked you up to see if whatever trouble he got into had gotten to you too."

She swallows, and nods.

"You could say that," she murmurs, a hint of rueful.

"I'd ask what the fuck happened but I get the sense you don't really want to talk about it."

"I don't - you know I'm not actually sure? I - Zeothe was framed, if he actually killed anyone and then got caught he would have looked at me apologetically and asked me t-to." She swallows. "To apologize to our parents for him and hand me a, a, contingency plan that would keep. Something this shaped. From occurring."

"Yeah. I - I met him, when he came out of his dedication. He was... memorable. If you'd been any less charming I would've refused to walk you home, wouldn't have wanted to take the chance he'd recognize me."

That startles a laugh out of her.

"What," she says, sounding almost like herself again, except for that hint of a sob in her throat, "you liked me that much, having met my brother and wanting to -" She cannot finish the sentence, in favor of trying not to cry.

"...do you want a hug."

Aborted-sob.

"Yes please."

He looks up at her and opens his arms.

And now he has an Esvetielle in his arms, clinging to him and violently sobbing like everything in the world is terrible, none of it will ever be okay again, and like he's the only person in any of it that's anything resembling adequate.

Well.

Yeah he's going to fix this. But - she can finish crying on him first.

She's going to be a while.

He doesn't have anywhere to be.

"Some purchase I am," she sniffles with a complex hybrid of misery and humor. "Outrageous sum of money in order t-to be cried on, I am the opposite of a sound investment."

"You're very attractive when you cry," he says, hugging her.

"Oh, good, because that was my priority here," she snorts, laughing a little, and - then the laughs are back to being sobs, yep. That was predictable.

Snuggle.

After she has had a bit of time to sob:

"Though, there is a logic to b-being a really unsound investment, in like. Most of the potential outcomes for cases like these. I was vaguely hoping w-whoever got me would end up desperately unhappy with their purchase."

"Oh, they would've been," he says. "Especially whoever that one idiot was, I think he'd have been stubborn enough that when I came to get you I'd have killed him rather than deal with his nonsense."

She lets out a watery giggle.

"That's kind of gratifying. Can you kill him anyway, he's a prick. - No, I should not make murder decisions while I'm miserable, ignore that."

"I will wait until you're not miserable before I kill anyone for you," he promises.

And more giggling. Giggle sobbing. Very talented, this woman.

"Thank you. Why do I keep having this kind of power. Was I secretly dedicated to a, a higher, tenth power? The power of murder delegation?"