Bright pulled back and slapped a cotton bud on her inner arm. “Press down,” she said, with that same patience. Bright was a lot less short-tempered when she was working.

Orfeus did, holding down so the tiny wound wouldn’t bleed too much. Bright shook the little red vial, peering at its contents. She shook her head. “Honestly,” she said almost to herself. “You’re remarkable. I’ll need to run tests to be sure, but even with them being self-replicating, you should have a lower count than this.” She looked at Orfeus fondly, a little like how Orfeus looked at her plants. “Something in your blood or brain just makes you the perfect environment for my little nanites to grow in.”

Orfeus pressed down on the cotton and bit her lip. “Mm-hmm,” she agreed.

Bright paused, and then set the vial down. “Sorry,” she said. “You honestly are my friend, not my experiment, but uh, maybe it’s a bit of both?”

Bright got carried away, always said the first thing on her mind, didn’t care much for subtlety. Orfeus knew those things about her. A lot of the time, she appreciated them. “There’s no need to choose between two or more things when they’re all good,” she said, gravely. “I relate to this deeply as a bisexual.” Bright laughed.

“Anyone caught your eye?” she said absentmindedly, fetching even more needles.

Claws digging into her neck. Orfeus shook her head and shook the image away, widening her eyes. “Rivasoa,” she said. “We are madly in love.”

Bright snorted with laughter, shaking her head. “Have you told her that?”

“No, I must bear my tragic torch in secret.” Orfeus leaned back, grinning.

Bright did her shots. One of estrogen and one of blood, or of Blood, rather. There was no transfusion of actual human blood, that’d be all kinds of messy, just the nanites that formed Blood in a clear solution. Orfeus hadn’t asked about the science.

“That should do you right,” Bright said cheerfully, but her eyes lingered on Orfeus as she stood.

“I feel amazing,” Orfeus told her honestly. Energy flooded through her veins. Right now, it didn’t seem to matter that she couldn’t trust anyone, or that she’d held back her trust from the people who did deserve it. Right now, it felt like she could face Rivasoa and Faolan and the Elders and the Order and all the world. Everything would flow as it was meant to. She’d perform the right tasks, at the right time: all would be as it should.

Bright still looked worried. Right. Orfeus added, “This should help.”

Bright nodded, looking pleased.

She washed her hands, then ushered her outside. There was a slight edge of impatience to it, through the friendly worry. Bright could seldom bear to be long away from her work. Rivasoa sat where they’d left her, hands folded, demure.