Devero has to turn away from her, nostrils flaring and lips compressing tight as bile rises in his throat.

Where he's from, children are very nearly sacred. The very possibility of-- of commodifying a child so, treating one as nothing more than a tool or a weapon-- is so anathema to him it's almost sickening.

"Good," he says quietly, his face still turned away. "Fuck him." (Generally, he tries not to swear around children. This moment is a valid exception.)