He turns to her, slow and grim, like a door swinging stuck on its hinges. "You wanna die?"

His tone is judgmental. There's a right answer to this question. No flowery speech, no poetics. He'd prefer to cut through the shit, especially with Rani, who learned in fine palaces to hide in the spaces between words. If that ever worked on him, it doesn't anymore.

"Gonna let this world beat you?"