[ part of it is the way she’s pushing back at him for the first time; that firm edge of steel in her voice, a welcome surprise. part of it is her accidental choice of just the right words, striking a chord: the bill comes due.

he remembers mordo’s voice, echoing, warning. it takes him a moment, a beat to swallow it down and wrangle his tone back to being even and steady. ]

I make a habit of weaselling my way out of paying the bill, to be honest. I do, however, respect having contingency plans upon contingency plans. What’s that thing they say, there’s no such thing as luck, just good preparation—

So. Your plan: chop off the anchor, leave Kirkwall, quit Riftwatch, blend in as a local?