Chapter Two

Content warning: domestic abuse.

Kruger had a scowl on his face as he shoved his way through Liberio. Cramped streets flooded with chitchatting people who ought to hate him, or at the very least fear him.

The people who didn't fear him scared him. He didn't want to know how far he'd go if they discovered his identity.

In fighting monsters, he'd become one. And whom exactly was he fighting for?

He found Private Lenin lounging about in Werner's pastry shop, across from the gate.

"I see you're rather concerned about our dangerous escapees."

Lenin coughed and sat up straight. Beads of sweat appeared on his brow, already wrinkled despite his youth. "I wasn't sure what else to do."

"Be a soldier."

"All due respect, sir, that's not much advice."

"And that's not an excuse." Kruger dragged Lenin to his feet. "But you can start by wiping off the mud your boots left on the table."

"N – no, sir, we've got it," said old Mr. Werner, fishing for his glasses.

Always fawning, always dutiful, the Eldians. Kruger expected nothing less, but moments like these – when he could twist ilitary discipline into helping an Eldian – they were all he had.

"No, you don't. Private Lenin does. And I'll be listening to his account, so you'd best get away from here, Werner." Kruger jerked his head to the kitchen.

"Of – of course." Werner wiped his hands on his apron and hurried into the kitchen. He could find something to busy himself.

Immediately after the kitchen door closed, Werner pressed his ear to the wood.

"Two people were spotted escaping last night. I'd like a description, stat." After a brief survey behind the counter, Kruger plunked a pail of soapy rags before Lenin.

"Yes, sir." Lenin wrung out the cloth and began wiping. "Um, one was short and the other wasn't much taller. But he was thicker."

"How short? Child short?" Why couldn't he just assume adult and forgo his job? Why did he have to ask the damning questions he damn well knew the answer to?

"Ch – child? N – no," stammered Lenin. "Like a woman, I thought, but I couldn't be sure."

So the thick man…? Kruger's skin crawled. They did not need Marleyans, reporters or not, poking around in Liberio. "I demand a better description than that."

"That's all I have for you, sir," protested Lenin.

"You dripped." Kruger nodded at the worn floorboards. "Clean those, too."

"But we're even keeping them out of business the longer I clean!"

"Then be a considerate Marleyan and do your job. That includes observation." Kruger's eyes narrowed.

Lenin shivered. Gross may be a fool, but he was pliable. His austere partner terrified him.

"You're the town doctor, right?"

"Prison doctor, really," muttered the young man before her. He turned around, and to her surprise, though he looked a few years older than she, his eyes were as fiery as Tiberius' has been.

So you do resent Marleyans, Ilona thought.

His eyes widened when he saw her darker, clearly non-Eldian skin tone. But he didn't apologize, and Ilona rather liked him for it.

"Can I help you?" Occasionally Marleyan women visited him when they were in desperate circumstances. Grisha hated treating them, but someone had to. And he was legally obligated.

"Do you make house calls?" she asked, to his immediate suspicion.

"I can't leave Liberio without permission."

"You're being awfully presumptive. Not for me. For someone in Liberio. A woman – damn it, I don't know her name, but her son's is Tiberius."

The doctor stared blankly.

"If you follow me, I can direct you to their house. I think she may have been beaten…savagely last night. And perhaps her son, too." Ilona paced back and forth. "I can pay you. Please don't charge them."

"I know Tiberius Castile. He's quite a troublesome kid." He'd picked on Zeke, for starters.

Words tumbled from her lips. "He's troubled because his family hurts each other. He's thinking about suicide, doctor, uh, Dr. Jaeger, was it?"

Grisha stared at her. "It was. How do you know all this?"

"Tiberius and I crossed paths yesterday," she said carefully.

"I see."

He was smart, smarter than she. And he knew it. Ilona lifted her bag of goods to rest on her hip. "Look, I don't blame you for not trusting a Marleyan."

Resentment simmered in his gaze.

"But I'm honestly asking you to help your countryman, and a child at that. How is that difficult for you?"

The problem isn't you. It's having to obey you when you mistake me for a monster, he thought. Although he did appreciate how open she was to his pushback. Most Marleyan women snapped their fingers and expected him to jump to their sides.

"Father!" The door flew open and a small blonde boy dashed in, only to freeze at the sight of a fancy lady.

"Zeke, I told you to wait," Grisha said. But he couldn't help but mix his beautiful son's face with Tiberius', and how could he refuse?

"We apologize," said a pretty blond woman, grabbing her son's hand.

"No, no – it's all right," Ilona assured. "Your name's Zeke?"

The boy nodded shyly.

"My name is Ilona." Ilona dropped to her knees so she could be eye level with him. "Zeke, would you like a present?"

"Yes," he whispered, glancing at his father, who was too befuddled by this Marleyan's behavior to notice.

Ilona fished about in her bag for one of the toys she's purchased for Tiberius. He wouldn't miss one, and toys wouldn't solve his problems, anyhow. "Here."

She held out a silly, furry doll. "Do you like monkeys?"

His eyes lit up. "Yes."

Father had taught him about monkeys once. He'd asked questions and Father'd been proud of him then.

"What do you say?" the blonde prodded.

"Thank you," Zeke said soberly.

"Of course," Ilona said with an easy smile as she stood.

"We should get going now. My medical bag is ready," Grisha announced awkwardly.

Ilona bit back a sigh of relief. "Yes, thank you."

"We can talk later," Grisha told his wife, who nodded.

"I can wait a moment." She didn't know if Tiberius or his mother could, but she really hated to intrude as she had.

"It's not very important," said the woman. "Not as much as someone ill, at any rate."

"Thank you for understanding," Ilona replied, holding out her hand. "It was a pleasure to meet you. I'm Ilona Minsk."

"Dina Jaeger." The surprised woman gripped her hand. The mayor's daughter? The mayor's daughter didn't hate Eldians?

Grisha's head was spinning as he pecked Dina on her lips.

"Thank you," Zeke called again, wrinkling his nose at his parents.

Ilona chuckled and stepped out into the buzzing street with Dr. Jaeger by her side.

Kruger inhaled a cigarette and noted the doctor's practice on the corner. Better not to let him see him.

But, strangely, a policeman waited outside. The kind of fancy prick only rich Marleyans hired to feel safe from evil Eldian mobs.

Kruger frowned. Could someone have discovered…

No, they couldn't. And even if they did, they couldn't trace the doctor to him.

But did he – he didn't have a plan for this yet. Their capture.

The door opened, and Kruger turned his head back to Werner's windows, where he could trouble Lenin and spy on the Jaegers.

The doctor stepped out, bag in hand, with a young woman in a purple dress far too fancy for most Eldians. Definitely a Marleyan.

She turned her head in his direction and Kruger's blood shook. Her?!

Was she tracking him down? Or was this all a giant, preposterous coincidence?

She'd seemed well-bred, but this – who was she?

He rapped on the glass, startling Lenin before sticking his head in the door. "I'm off. You're to finish, or I'll find out, I assure you."

"Y-yes, sir." Lenin gulped.

"It's here." In the daylight, Ilona noted just how dilapidated their surroundings were, with houses made of splintered wood and cracked, dirty windows. She was lucky she hadn't been robbed or worse last night.

"I see." Grisha waited as she knocked on the door.

"Should I wait outside again, my lady?" asked Captain Miller.

"I – I suppose." Ilona wasn't unused to having a guard, but they were rather frustrating.

"Who is it?" yelled a man's voice. The door flew open, and a half-dressed man stumbled back. "What's you fancies doin' here?"

Ilona had seen men and woman drunk at parties before, but not to this extent. "Sir, uh, we're…"

"I know you! Doctor Jeager." The man pointed wildly at Grisha.

"Yes, he's here on a doctor's visit." Ilona forced a smile.

"I didn't ashk for no doctor. It's my wife's doin', ain't it?" His expression twisted, and Ilona's stomach along with it.

"I'm merely trying to ascertain the health of my Eldian brethren," said Grisha smoothly.

Ilona shot him a grateful look as she approached who must be Tiberius's father. "May we come in? I think you, for one, ought to sit down. You look tired."

"Heh. Tired's one word for it." He leant against Ilona. "You look too fine for this part of town."

Miller entered behind them, unable to trust his charge alone with a drunkard and a genteel Eldian. The stench of urine nearly gagged him.

"Lie down." Ilona smiled and helped the man into a rickety chair. "What's your name, sir?"

"Sir! Ain't nobody called me sir in years."

"Your name," Miller said coldly.

"Tiberius Berg," he said proudly. "Well, ain't the doctor gonna treat me?"

"You and the rest of your family," Grisha said. Poor Tiberius Junior. No wonder the child picked on Zeke.

"Eh? Tiberius! Alma! Get out here!" he howled.

Ilona took out her handkerchief and wiped what had to be vomit off the corners of Mr. Berg's grimy face.

"What's the matter?" A pinch-faced woman appeared, one eye blackened and her lip split. A toddler peeked out from her skirts.

Behind his mother, Tiberius' eyes widened in horror when he recognized Ilona.

Grisha had to wonder just how exactly Miss Minsk wanted this done. Dare he ask? Dare he risk anything that might cause him attention?

"What happened to your face?" Miller asked instead, glancing at Ilona. Doubtless this was why she'd chosen this house.

Alma's hand floated to her lip. "This…don't worry about it."

"It's my job to worry about it," Grisha said, not unkindly, as he pulled her hand away. "Madam, is there another place you could sit?"

"I ain't getting' up." Mr. Berg closed his eyes. "Unless you want me to, pretty lady."

"I want you to rest," Ilona said as sweetly as she could.

As soon as Mr. Berg was snoring and Grisha had Alma in another room, Ilona reached into her bag. "Tiberius, right?"

"What are you doing here?" he whispered, with a fearful glance at Miller.

"Checking your health," Ilona said brightly. "Part of a new program to help Eldians."

The toddler, a girl who couldn't have been past three, scowled. "We don't need your help."

"Shh, Sally," hissed Tiberius.

Ilona chuckled and held out a doll with long yarn hair towards the girl. "But this doll needs you."

Sally's eyes widened, and she took her hand out of her mouth to grab the doll.

"And Tiberius." Ilona held out a stuffed cat with a silky black coat that felt like real fur. "Here's a cat. They're the opposite of dogs, you know. Vain, preposterous, and very lovely."

Tiberius gingerly reached for the toy. "I used to be mean to cats."

"I'm sure they forgive you."

He squeezed its face. "I hope so."

"I know so." Ilona smiled at him.

No one had followed after him last night when he'd begged them to. No one ever followed after him. But she had. Tiberius smiled back.

"She won't?" Ilona gaped at Grisha.

He looked around the crusty room, with the tiny children who deserved so much better. If they could only accept their destiny as children of Ymir. If only they could accept that they were so much more. "For now."

For once crazy second, Ilona thought about dragging Alma out, or at the very least her children who didn't deserve another second in this hellhouse.

"I'll be back, okay?" Grisha held an apple out to Tiberius. "And here's one for your sister, too."

The plucky little girl reminded him of Faye. At least, who he imagined Faye to be.

"What do you mean by won't?" Tiberius asked with a frown.

Grisha and Ilona exchanged glances. Had she overstepped?

"Never mind," Ilona said quickly, guilt tapping on her heart.

His eyes hardened. "Get out."

"We will," Grisha said, pleasant as ever, while her face crumpled. Miller, fortunately, was already guiding Ilona towards the door.

Ilona heaved a sigh as the door closed behind them. Jack's warning flooded into her mind. "I shouldn't have interfered, should I?"

"You tried to do a good thing," Miller said.

"No. You interfered where a Marleyan isn't welcome, as usual," said Grisha.

"What did you say?" demanded Miller.

Ilona held up her hand. "I understand."

Grisha softened. "But I will do what I can."

Her shoulders slumped. "What if that's not enough?"

"Look in there!" The doctor jabbed his finger at the door. "Is anything enough, save rewriting their lives?"

Ilona's eyes were filled with tears. "I don't know."

"No one does," said Grisha. He paused, regretting his venom, but what else could be done when one faced a Marleyan? "I have patients."

"I understand." Ilona nodded, unable to meet his gaze. Had she tried, she would have seen that he, too, was unable to meet hers. "Thank you for your, ahem, patience."

Grisha bit back a chuckle. "Good day, Miss Minsk."

"Shall we be heading back?" Miller looked at her.

"For today. More will come tomorrow," she told him. "When I've actually planned something."

"You tried. Some cretins can't be helped."

She whirled around to face him. "They're not cretins, not most of them! They can't help what they were born as."

"As cretins."

"I don't see it."

"Miller," said a voice from behind Ilona. She froze. No, by heaven and hell.

"Sergeant Kruger." Miller nodded. Ilona was too startled to turn around, to face him.

Well, at least she heard no dogs. Perhaps she wouldn't be his next victim – but perhaps their story would. Which fate was worse?

"Is there a reason you've stopped us?" Miller asked after an awkward silence.

"I'm investigating a security breach from last night. Why don't you run along, and I'll walk her home. The charitable ones are those who need the most warnings about danger."

"I see." Miller nodded again. Strange, he thought it, but not unexpected. "Thank you for an unusual day, Miss Minsk."

Her fingers pinched his hand. Her voice came out higher than normal. But if she had a chance to persuade this Kruger astray, she would not pass it up. "Thank you for your protection."

Miller marched off, but Miss Minsk still kept her back to him.

Minsk. Of course. The mayor's relative? Daughter, perhaps? Kruger wanted to punch something.

"You can turn around, you know."

She spun towards him with a smile brighter than the sun. "Pleasure you meet you, Sergeant – Kruger, was it?"

She blinked innocently, under no illusions of fooling him. But why not irritate him whilst she drew breath?

"Minsk, was it?"

Her face fell. She looked like a pouting child. "I told you the mayor would listen to me."

"You weren't lying," Kruger admitted. "But not so brave by day, are you?"

She stomped her foot. "Merely startled."

"Like a fawn."

"Like a spider," she countered, standing on her tiptoes to look into his eyes.

"You mean me." Oh, more than she knew. Unless she did know?

"I do."

"I didn't want to hurt a child." Kruger stepped back, away from those enormous eyes. "You might as well lead me to your home. Or I can drag you to the Mayor's, with everyone watching you kick and scream."

"They'd rise to my defense, but that's a lovely thought, Mr. Kruger." She sauntered past him with a smirk. "Tells me a lot about your soul."

He had none, but oh, that stung. "You can't possibly believe in souls."

"Oh, but I can, and I do." Ilona threw her arms out. "Look at everything you can't see. Inside the houses and shops, inside each person's organs and inside all of their heads. Your sight means little."

Like his titan. "I didn't come to argue philosophy with a spoiled brat, especially one who plays hero at night."

Ilona fell silent. Let him think that of her.

"Did you ever consider that Eldians don't deserve your defense?" he barked.

"Defense? Why are you so defensive?" she scoffed as they exited Liberio. "Does it harm you to think that those we've encaged might be worth something?"

"Oh, they're worth something. And so are we. This is justice for everything they've done to us," he recited, hating himself for trying to corrupt a truly sweet, if idiotic, Marleyan.

"But those Eldians are dead now. Are we any better, then, with what we've done? How long can innocent people be forced to pay for someone else's sins?" For a moment, Ilona allowed herself the fantasy that such a serial killer could change.

He regarded her with serious eyes she couldn't quite read, eyes containing a library of enigmas she could lose herself in. "Those are dangerous words in dangerous times, Miss Minsk."

Ilona blinked free from his gaze, from her confusion. She gestured behind them, towards Liberio. "Silence is also dangerous."

"So is sneaking out for no real gain. Toys won't cure people. And neither will doctors."

Ilona ground her teeth. If he was right, what of it? "I will do what little I can, with what I have. Do not convince me otherwise. You shall fail."

She was a fanatic, as fanatic as his Eldian restorationalists. Kruger briefly entertained the notion of a Marleyan insider, but no. She was not worth the risk.

As they headed up the stairs to a higher level of the city, Kruger seized his opportunity and wrenched her into a narrow alley.

Ilona gasped as he shoved her into a thorny vine climbing down the stony apartment. "You can't hurt me."

"No one is untouchable. Do you understand?" His eyes burned bright, almost as if he were – warning her?

Her breath slowed. Even if he killed her, she would not yield to this coward. "You act as though my actions stem from a lack of understanding. I act in spite of what I understand, and perhaps in some sense, because of it."

Kruger drew away. "Then God help you."

"And God help you. You and your deplorable partner." Her voice lowered. "He was a child."

"So were we all, once."

Ilona pushed herself off the wall and spun herself directly in front of him. "Was this what you wished to be when you grew up? Someone who would attack children with dogs and call himself a hero for it? Someone who argues for silence and inaction in the face of cruelty?"

For a moment, his composure broke and she saw a man crippled with guilt, but then Kruger swallowed and all was as before. "No."

I am not my partner. I am not my partner. I am not Gross.

What would Jack do? What would Jack do? Ilona scrutinized the man before her.

"Is that all you have to say?" Ilona was good at feigning bravery, but not so much compassion, as she grasped his sleeves, his wrists.

"Don't extend your sympathies when you're angry. You'll only fail," Kruger told her, pulling back.

When he dropped her off at her residence, he gave her a final warning. "I hope to never see you again, Miss Minsk."

And I hope we do meet again, Ilona thought, but she merely smiled with sardonic demureness to hide her gloating.

Kruger stormed off, furious at himself for his bewitchment. He hadn't even asked her about the man she'd helped escape! He'd been so caught up in lecturing her, fighting her pretty philosophical battles that held no real meaning in real life –

His fingers slid into his sleeve, where the papers – his orders, his paycheck, and Werner's note were kept – and then he froze.

The papers had been much thicker in Liberio. Had he dropped them? He'd never been so careless.

A new possibility bloomed before him: her soft, genteel hands on his, that false pitying smile…

His paycheck she didn't need and he didn't care about. But she had Werner's note.

He wasn't often a man afraid, but now terror seized him.