[Liem cannot resist the urge to glance Set's way as the god retreats back to the bedroom to paw through his drawer of hair things. Partly this is because, despite Set's beauty, he doubts whether the god actually knows how to style hair like Liem's, or what to do with any of the products nestled in the drawer along with the combs. He has never noticed any scent on him other than his own, that of unblemished life mixed with the hot scent of sun-baked sand, and never seen him wear anything in his hair except the quiet little bead of his sunbeam.

The other reason he watches is so that he can see Set sniff through the jars, and then sneeze and reject the whole lot, like a dog snuffling through something it shouldn't.

His fingers slow their motion as he brings up Hayame, faltering as he discards his tie and begins on the buttons of his shirt. Even though he had dismissed Claude's assertion that he had somehow broken her heart — ridiculous, baseless exaggeration — he still worried that she would be suffering in the wake of the Oracle trial, alone with her self-recrimination. The change that comes over Set's expression does not, then, put him at ease.

But he is still not expecting the man to move behind him, and slide his arms around him to undo his shirt fastenings one by one. Liem grows very still for a moment, as fingers brush over the thin fabric. Then when Set presses his nose into Liem's hair, he lets out a soft, resigned breath, and leans gently back against the warmth of the body behind him.]

I wish I could have spared her that. I only meant to be a signpost on her way.

[The point of such things is that they are meant to be left behind. He had not imagined, when he first spoke to her in that space between worlds, that she would try to tether herself to him.]

She yearns for the company of a person who is better than I actually am.