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“Keys,” Birdie says, tugging on his sleeve. “I want you to throw me in!” “It’s too cold for that, duckling,” he says, prying her off his sleeve. She clings to his leg instead and he sighs. “You’ll catch something.” “No I won’t,” she says with a pout. “Yes, you will,” he laughs. “You’ll freeze your braids off.” He tugs on them affectionately as he speaks and Maura smirks at him from her seat on the bench. “And after Maura put in so much hard work doing them for you.”

Arthur laughs, the tension in him draining out. He picks up his spoon and examines the food Meja brought out. It’s some kind of fish stew over rice, but he’s only ever smelled the spices in the market. Steam is still rising off it, the smell wafting up with and making Arthur’s mouth water. He takes a bite and closes his eyes. The savory flavor is perfectly balanced by salt and and earthy spices, all in a creamy sauce that seems to soothe his whole throat on the way down. He opens his eyes and sees Meja watching him, her brow furrowed a bit. He quickly smiles at her. “It’s delicious,” he says. She smiles back at him, patting his cheek again, and goes back to shelling nuts into a bowl.

The sun's reflection on the water gives his eyes a soft green glow, and with him surrounded by the flowers and leaves, she can almost forget all the blood on his hands. He gives her a soft, sad smile. She curls her fingers against the smooth stone of the statue.

“We’re all worried about Birdie,” Jack says, grim-faced. “You can’t go running off and putting her in danger—” “She’s already in danger!” Fabin shouts, feathers falling from his hair. “How do you know?” Jack shouts back. “Because I can feel her!” Fabin screams, his eyes glowing green. Jack pulls up short and Fabin clutches his chest, his claws digging into his shirt. “Alright? I can feel her, I know she’s in danger—just—get the fuck out of my way!”