She had watched him nearly kill a man, had seen just how dangerous he truly could be, but his voice was soft and gentle, and she knew if she looked at him in that moment, she would start to sob and would not be able to stop.

“And I’ve heard whispers that you're the Crows' mage killer now."

She hadn't meant it to sound accusatory—it wasn't as if there weren't mages who needed to be assassinated, after all—but his expression grew serious nonetheless. "I don't take contracts from the Chantry," he said. "Or any contract that has a whiff of Chantry to it. I promised you I wouldn’t.”

There was a little part of her that thought it wasn’t particularly smart for a mage to help train a mage killer. Every mage was different, of course, but she’d taught him their weak points, how to anticipate their casting, the way it feels when a mage plucks a string of magic from the Fade. And he had learned well; he knew her weaknesses, knew how her magic felt, knew how to take her down.

She just trusted that he wouldn’t use that knowledge against her.

Viago hadn’t been happy once he’d realized what she had been doing, and maybe that was why she had kept training with Lucanis. Bullheadedness was one of her worst traits, or maybe one of her finest.

She trusted Lucanis, and he hadn’t given her reason to not trust him. She had asked him to not take contracts to hunt down apostates, and he had immediately agreed. And she trusted him.

“I know,” she replied, a small smile curving her lips. “Thank you.”

It was clear that something monstrous had taken up residence in Villa Dellamorte, but whether it was some creature or Lucanis himself turned monstrous no one knew.

Theoretically, they would have more choice over at least their contracts when they became master assassins—‘when’ in Lucanis’s case, ‘if’ in Wren’s. If she could prove to Viago that she was good enough. If she didn’t get kicked out of the Crows.