Ress had gotten himself out of bed and partially dressed in his pants by the time Maize returned to the apartment. He glanced up at her from the book he was reading while he lounged on their plush chaise, his cheerful grin dropping when he noticed the miserable look on her face.

"What happened?" he asked, closing the book and putting it aside.

With a sigh, she leaned back against the apartment door. "She wants me to spy on you."

"That's it?"

"That's it?" she echoed incredulously.

Ress shrugged his bare, muscular shoulders. "It's not like she's asking you to assassinate me."

"We're thieves, not murderers."

"You never know what can happen when things get slow."

"I'm so glad you find this amusing," she growled as she walked over and aggressively threw her body down on the opposite end of the chaise.

"Not amusing, just expected. I knew I was being followed at the market."

Her head whipped towards him. "You didn't say anything."

"You didn't need to know, and you needed those herbs more."

She frowned. She was going to get him killed and he was all but expecting it.

"Did she say anything else?"

Maize shook her head, still frowning. "Just that she wants me to watch you and report back next week."

"Fine— we can think of some elaborate story to tell her while we're waiting for Forge at the Chamberlain tonight."

Maize had practically forgotten the proposed plan from the lesser advisor. Or, at least that they still had to meet with him to formally agree to his proposal and get their advance and decide what else they were going to do with their new wealth.

"She knows you're supposed to be following me," he reminded her, taking her silence as hesitation. "And it's not as though we've never gone to the Inn to share a meal before."

"And if someone spots us speaking with Forge?"

Ress shrugged again. "We'll figure that one out when we need to."

"Why are you being so casual about this?"

"Because I know this is the best chance of finally getting you the help you need, and I'm more than willing to put my own neck on the line to get it for you."

"I don't deserve you," she said softly.

"I know." He smiled as he closed the distance between them, crawling across the cushions until he braced his arms along her sides and hovered above her. "But I deserve you, which is why this works."

She scowled and went to pinch his side, but he was ready for her, grabbing her hand before she could touch his skin and pinning it to the chaise before his lips met hers in a deep kiss. Temporarily distracted, Maize used her other hand to tickle his other hip, and he cackled against her lips. She tickled him relentlessly until she loosened his grip on her other hand and she was able to switch their positions so that she was straddling him upon the chaise.

His laughter subsided when he noticed that she was only sitting there on top of him, looking down at him, assessing the man beneath her. Her mind was a whirlwind of questions and contemplations, and all of them involved him.

"Tell me," was all he said, watching her. Of anyone else in that damn city, he was the only one who took the time to know her. Though Celese may have had a hand in making her the thief she was, Ress made her be the woman she wanted to be.

"Do you ever miss them?" she asked, unable to keep her conversation with Celese from her mind.

Ress didn't need to ask of whom she spoke. "No."

She cocked her head to the side. "Do you even remember his name?"

He scoffed and closed his eyes. "Cade."

"Do you know what happened to him?"

"You mean after he betrayed me?"

She frowned. "Yes."

He opened his eyes slowly and she saw the pain there. They talked about their pasts, but not often. The Denmother's mention of Ress' lingered in Maize's mind and she hated the look he gave her but if they were going to make this farce work they needed to get it out.

"I heard he married. A woman. They have a kid. Or three."

"And you're here with me, so it can't be all that bad, right?"

He gave her a soft smile, his hands coming up to rub at the side of her thighs affectionately. "It wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't for that whole outright denial which led to my family's outright rejection and denouncing me as one of their own."

"Look, no one told you to lure him into a public barn," she said lightly.

"It was his idea."

She gave him a sad smile. "I can roll with you in the hay if it makes you feel better."

He chuckled at that. "You can roll with me right here, right now, and we'll worry about making me feel better later."

Maize was more than happy to oblige, and an hour later Ress was more than cheered. They remained lost in each other, lying together on the chaise with their arms wrapped around one another and their legs tangled together while they attempted to catch their collective breath. Her fingers traced at the dark hair on his chest while his fingers trailed along her spine.

"Do you remember them?" he whispered as he leaned his head against hers.

She was silent for a moment, trying to think of an answer. 'Yes' didn't seem a sufficient response, but at the same time, neither did 'no'.

"My mother was caring. My father was distant."

His arm around her tightened. In turn, she held him tighter.

"And your brother?"

She let out a slow breath and closed her eyes to the memories of fire and burnt offerings and curses and vengeance. "I hope he suffered."

Ress placed a soft kiss on the top of her head, reminding her that she was there and still alive, albeit broken and unstable. "When we're done in Xelthan, we'll go back to your family's home—"

"Ress," she wanted to scold, looking up at him.

He was already looking at her. "We'll level it to the ground, and then find that witch and level her too."

She could only give him a small smile. It was the same promise, just a different day. "And when we leave, we'll find Cade and level him too."

He snorted. "No, we won't."

"Can we just hurt him then?"

"No, Maize."

"What about a finger? He'll have 9 others and I'm sure his wife won't even notice."

Groaning, Ress wrestled himself out from underneath her and stood, stretching with his back towards her. She paused in her violent suggestions to watch the muscles of his back stretch, the way his rear clenched...

"You're staring," he said without even looking back to her.

"You're worth it," she murmured.

Shaking his head, he padded to their small bathroom. "Get dressed— we should get going."

"Where?" she asked, sitting up. "The Chamberlain? Forge said to meet at sundown."

"Which is all the more reason we need to get there first." He closed the door, leaving Maize alone to her own contemplations while she redressed.

She pulled on her pants and threw on her shirt, sitting down to relace her boots while she considered Ress' offer. She didn't want to return to her family home. Didn't want to think of the memories that lay dead beneath the rubble or of the demons that awaited her should be dare venture to the homestead.

Her parents were dead while her brother was murdered by a witch seeking vengeance and a debt, and Maize's sanity was the price. She almost expected the voice to chime in, to remind her of her failings and misgivings, but the herbs were still potent and their effects remained strong... if she could hold out another week, she'd be able to make it until she needed to do whatever it was Lawson Forge demanded of her.

Shaking her head, she leaned back in the chaise and waited for Ress to emerge from the bathroom. Sometimes she wondered what took him so long, and other times she knew exactly what he was doing. She had caught him before, staring into the looking glass for an undetermined length of time, and more often than not it was any time after they discussed his past before he arrived in Dreduor. Everyone in the Den had a story and a reason for being there, and no one ever asked out of fear of being shivved, but between Ress and Maize— they were partners in more than just their escapades. If they couldn't talk to one another, there was no point to any of it.

"Ready?" Ress asked as he entered the sitting room, fully dressed and armed to the teeth.

She blinked. "We're not just vetting?"

"I told you— he said sundown so we're going to be there first, and I'm not taking any chances."

Knowing he was right but groaning about it anyway, Maize made quick work of throwing on her leather gear and knives. She tied her hair back behind her head and pinched at her cheeks to give her complexion a little more life. Before departing, she grabbed a cloak and threw it over her shoulders. It was neither cold nor raining, but anything extra she could do to dissuade anyone from immediately recognizing her, the better off they'd be.

Ress wore his own cloak in agreement with her deductions and together they set out from the Den's residential complex to the main thoroughfare of the city.

"How are your hands?" he asked as they walked shoulder to shoulder down the quiet alleyway.

By habit, Maize brought her hands up to look them over. The fingertips were still red and raw, scabbed over where fingernails went missing and skin was torn.

"They're fine."

Ress snorted as he glanced over at her. "Your hand could have been cut off and gushing out your life's blood, and you'd still say you were fine."

"It's just that it could be worse."

"How's that?"

"I could be dead."

Ress frowned as they made their way through a few more deftly chosen areas to create the quickest shortcut that would get them through the city easiest without being outwardly detected. He said no more but she could tell when he was thinking, and more often than not the look was concerned about Maize's casual acceptance that they would all die one day.

How they got there would be the greatest challenge.

Ever since the revenant arrived, she didn't so much ask for death to end her life but rather wish it to bring the demon within her the most pain and misery. Her end would be its end, and in that she would win. Ress, however, insisted that there was another way, and that was how they came to learn about Xelthan and the treatments its healers offered. That paired with his personal attempt at his own life, Ress no longer considered death an option, and always found another way to solve even the worst of life's problems.

For that, Maize trusted him more than anything.

And as they approached The Chamberlain, both lifting their hoods to cover their faces, she knew regardless of where they went or what was asked of them, Ress would always be there to ensure death's focus was anywhere by on Maize.