Dark gray crawls down the thread, and Kisa nearly bows over when she feels his exhaustion. So similar, in so many ways, to her own. Perhaps that’s what possesses her to make the offer, or perhaps it’s the way he looks so rumpled—and so young, not at all like a powerful god—in the spa pajamas…

It is a terrible idea, she tells herself. A really truly and terrible idea. Don’t you dare offer. It is not at all going to assist in the squashing. Why are you opening your mouth? Don’t say it—

“I could help,” she hesitantly murmurs. “With…Hwanin. At night.”

Seokga stares at her. Honestly. Where has her self-control gone? Down the gutter, that’s where.

Kisa clamps her mouth shut, yet feels no guilt—even as her logical self groans in frustration and buries her head in her hands.

The god is still gaping.

Perhaps it’s necessary to explain why she’s offering in a purely factual way (although she is quite certain now that her reasoning is not motivated by her beloved facts, nor logic). Quickly, she rushes out, “I was one of Samsin Halmoni’s shamans, remember? I was a doctor in the MMU—the Magical Maternity Unit. I can help you with Hwanin at nighttime…Show you what to do, how to tell what he needs…”

His face twists at the mention of her goddess, and once again she wonders what he could possibly have against her. But then his face clears, and his eyebrows shoot up. “You do realize,” he says slowly, “that would require you to stay…”

“Overnight. Yes.” Soo-min will have her head if she finds out, but Kisa—rule-abiding, authority-fearing Kisa—doesn’t care. It’s decidedly uncharacteristic, and she decides not to linger too long on why. Perhaps that’s what Hajun meant when he so valiantly attempted to explain “fun” to her. Perhaps fun is harmless. Fun is fine. As a temporary stop on the way to the DAR, of course. “If it helps you get some rest, especially in the middle of this investigation, I really don’t mind.”

Seokga’s throat bobs. “Yes,” he blurts, before a rush of purple embarrassment shoots down the bond. “I mean,” he says a moment later, more slowly (as if trying very hard to sound dignified), “that it would…help. Yes. It would help.”

Kisa flattens her lips to keep them from spreading into a thoroughly unnecessary smile. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” says Seokga, who looks as if he’s fighting off a smile, too.

“I still haven’t figured out why you hate Samsin Halmoni,” she admits. “My goddess.” As she expected it would, his face darkens at the name. “Why, Seokga?”