#the unintentional pun is where spite jumps in to be a jerk

[ofcrowsanddragons]

It was a guilty pleasure of Neve's to listen in as the Crows discussed their childhoods.

"¡Por el Santísimo Creador, Rook!" Lucanis exclaimed, throwing up his hands and letting his own chair skid back a few inches on the stone floor. "¿Qué demonios estaba pensando?"

Neve brought the mug of coffee to her lips. Rook was leaning back in their seat at the table, arms crossed, and Lucanis shifted to scowl fiercely at a spot behind Rook's shoulder.

"If I'm understanding correctly," Neve said, in a carefully even voice, "Your mentor actually bought you for the Crows?"

"I've killed people for less," Lucanis grumbled, putting his hands back around his own, delicate porcelain cup.

Rook shrugged. "He wasn't so bad. I helped him on a contract, so he paid my family off when he took me to Antiva. They would have been short on labour for the farm, otherwise."

They both looked at Rook, who finally caved. "If it makes you both feel better, he died with my knife in his neck a decade later."

"Así se hace," Lucanis said with a sharp nod, tipping his cup toward Rook.

"That's it," said Neve, her tone dry but satisfied.

"It was a contract, though!" said Rook, looking up at Neve with a pleading expression. "I didn't do it for no reason."

Crows, Neve thought, raising an eyebrow. As if Neve would ever judge over a slaver's death.

Lucanis looked like he wanted to ask what the hell had been going on at House de Riva before Viago's ascension. Instead, he looked over to a a space by the fire and slumped back in his chair. The man brought two fingers to the space between his eyebrows.

"What did they get him for?" he finally asked.

"Nothing out of the ordinary," said Rook. "Tax evasion."

Neve set down her cup and laughed fully into her hand. "I should have guessed that," she said, looking up. "Maybe Treviso's a lot like home, after all."