Vanya looks toward her, and Gwenaëlle is already looking at him, eyebrows raised as she adjusts the lenses on her gauntlet — he’s worked with her for long enough, likely, to recognise the gesture as an adjustment from the dangerously narrowed percussive force to a more diffused blast.

“If I break anything important,” she says, before he’s even asked, “I can get the repair cost out of Roux’s pockets before we leave.”

Probably. If she can’t, it isn’t as if she can’t cover those costs, it only seems as if Vanya might be more likely to prickle with pride about it if he knows she’s likely as not to do so.

To his mother, more bright than genuinely reassuring, “We probably won’t break anything, though.”