"Tell him my closing hours aren’t an invitation," Dove told Varek. "And nobody is camping outside my bed. I already have one voice in my head that won’t mind its business."
Varek looked at her for a moment. "I’ll tell him the first part."
"Probably best."
After he left, she shut the gate and asked Sprout to show the mission panel. One of two items sold. Three of eight Favor Coins earned. Somewhere behind the locked dental shelf waited the chance to stop tasting yesterday every time she swallowed.
"You could speak to the panther," Sprout said.
"I could also bite him. Both involve my mouth, but neither makes this a date."
"Conversation offers several possible emotional reactions."
"So does a brick. Give me a minute."
She did want an answer from Thorne. She wanted to know whether he still thought she had invited what happened in the passage. The coins were not a good enough reason to stand within reach of him, and she told Sprout that plainly before putting the panel away.
The midday meal brought rice, canned vegetables, and meat from the kitchen. Dove ate behind her counter while the hall filled with men collecting bowls. Beyond the wash passage, a woman disappeared through a fitted door with two men carrying her meal. Dove’s tarp was a choice, not the Warren’s best attempt at housing.
Kael came after finishing his own meal. She told him Thorne could speak from the opposite wall. The gate stayed shut, and the conversation ended when she said so.
"I’ll tell him," Kael said. "You don’t have to open the stall for this."
She stored her goods first, leaving only the list and a cup of ordinary water outside. When Thorne arrived, he stopped where Kael pointed instead of testing how much closer he could get.
He was a large, inconveniently handsome man in a worn black coat. Dark hair caught around his notched ear, and pale scars crossed his jaw before disappearing beneath his collar. His yellow eyes went to her wrists, covered by her sleeves, then returned to her face.
"Start with why you asked about my bed," she said.
His ears pulled back. "I asked about the hall."
"My bed is in it. Keep up."
"You went quiet after the cart passed. I wanted to know whether the guards still passed after everyone left."
Dove glanced at Kael, who looked as surprised as she felt. "How would you know when I go quiet?"
"You moved your tail before the cart reached you. Afterward, you kept looking at the wheel instead of drinking."
"You saw that from stores?" Kael asked.
Thorne’s jaw tightened. "I wasn’t looking at stores."
He had noticed all that while she had assumed he was deciding which part of her he hated most. That did not make the attention comfortable.
"If there’s a problem with the hall, tell Varek," she said. "Don’t appoint yourself the creature under my bed."
"I won’t wait here after you close."
She let the answer stand. Thorne looked at the gate, and his next words came slowly enough that she knew he had thought about them before arriving.
"I heard you tell me to let go. I didn’t. The rut was mine to manage. I hurt you, and I’m sorry."
Dove had prepared for excuses. Without one, she had nothing ready to throw back, which annoyed her almost as much as being watched while she found an answer.
"I haven’t stopped being angry."
"I know. You don’t have to."
The hall carried on around them. A bowl scraped against a bench, and someone called for another serving. Dove held her cup with both hands until they felt steady enough to put it down.
"You being handsome wasn’t the problem," she said. "You deciding it meant you could put your hands on me was."
Thorne went so still that she wondered which part he had missed. His ears lifted a little, and the hard line beside his mouth eased. He drew a breath that seemed to fill his whole chest.
"Handsome?" he repeated, much more quietly.
"Yes, Thorne. You own a face. It works. Please stay with the conversation."
Kael looked into his cup, but not quickly enough to hide his smile. Thorne touched the scar at his jaw, caught himself, and lowered his hand.
"Even with these?"
She frowned. "They’re scars. They aren’t a second nose."
For a moment, he looked almost young. Then his gaze dropped to her covered wrists, and the small smile disappeared before it had properly formed.
"I understand what you meant," he said. "About my hands."
Sprout’s panel lit at the edge of her sight. Five Favor Coins from Thorne’s happiness, twenty in her balance. Eight of eight earned today. The dental shelf unlocked, its pictures finally showing color.
She had not been trying to earn anything. Somehow that made the result worse.
"Do not congratulate me," she told Sprout silently.
"The toothbrush is now available."
"You picked a very difficult time to be useful."
A man carrying stacked bowls slowed beside the counter and reached toward her cup. Thorne stepped across the narrow hall and caught his sleeve before his fingers reached the handle.
"That’s hers. Kitchen cups are on the trolley."
The man looked from him to Dove, then back again. "I was just clearing up."
"Then clear something that belongs to the kitchen."
"I can speak, thanks," Dove said. Thorne released the sleeve and returned to the far wall, but the man had already backed away. At the salvage bench, two workers had stopped sorting fittings to stare. Kael’s smile was gone; he was watching the panther closely.
Thorne noticed the attention and looked irritated with all of them. He kept his distance from Dove, though, even when the hall traffic pushed past his shoulder.
"You know which cup is mine?" she asked.
His eyes went to its chipped handle. "You turn the chipped side away from your mouth."
She had no answer for that. He remembered something that small, and she had no idea what to do with it.
"That’s enough for today," she said eventually.
He stepped back immediately. Dove should have let him leave, but the scar question had stayed with her. "Why did you hate me before this? You said I cost you something."
Thorne stopped. The softness disappeared from his face so quickly that she felt its absence.
"You asked my old settlement to send me away," he said. "And they listened."