No one would help him get to the bottom of Kerberos, and it had all reached a breaking point when Iverson threatened to terminate Keith’s scholarship if he kept snooping. So Keith got what he came for, the little black book no one was ever meant to find, and stopped snooping. Because now, he’ll have someone else to do all the snooping for him. The situation isn’t ideal, Keith thinks as he slits his palm open and methodically draws the pentagram on the floor, placing the necessary items one by one into each point of the star. But considering the circumstances, he thinks he’s done alright for himself. More importantly, for Shiro.

That night he lies in bed alone until the moon is high. When the rest of the house is deathly silent, except for the light snores coming from behind every door, he sneaks in slippered feet through the halls and over to the covered kitchens. There’s faint light coming from the smoldering hearth, where the coals are piled to keep them warm for tomorrow’s early start. Someone has curled up by it on a mat, like a scullery maid. But it’s not a maid, it’s a man. A tall long-legged man. His husband. The dubiously immortal master of Changming manor. What the fuck, Xie thinks.