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The first time he notices, he's catching up to Davrin and Rook in the Crossroads.
"Well, a cloud is an enemy, obviously," Davrin says.
"Yeah, easy," Rook agrees and laughs, easily.
Lucanis assumes they're talking about Ghilan'nain and thinks nothing of it, aside from privately, vehemently, agreeing.
Enemy.
Spite also agrees.
A few days later, Neve and Bellara are chatting in the courtyard as Lucanis leaves the dining hall.
"Sleep?"
"Always the enemy."
Wrong.
"The new chapter of The Twisted Knife?"
"Hmm…it's kind of a contract?"
"Because it's best when you complete it? Makes sense."
Aside from making a mental note to ask Bellara about borrowing that new chapter, Lucanis doesn't give it much thought. They must be talking about Bellara's latest writing endeavor, or one of Neve's cases.
The sight of Rook waiting at the eluvian—waiting for him at the eluvian, with that easy grin brightening his face—banishes the odd conversation from Lucanis's head completely.
But the memory returns to him the next day when he overhears Harding and Emmrich deep in a very similar conversation, just as he's raising his hand to knock on the conservatory door.
"Bacon."
"Contract."
"Explain?"
"You have to kill a pig to eat it. What about seagulls?"
Enemy.
"Enemy."
"Taash would disagree."
"Remember when one evacuated its bowels on his cloak?"
"Oh yeah, okay, enemy."
It was a few weeks ago at this point, but a seagull did shit on Lucanis's favorite cloak last time he was out on the coast. It took ages to clean, even when Neve offered to freeze the fabric to help flake the droppings off and Harding gave him a bar of her ma's "super strength" lye soap.
"What about—oh, hi Lucanis," Harding says when Lucanis finally knocks and opens the door.
Emmrich is seated in the chair, and raises his cup of tea to Lucanis in greeting. Harding is tending to her plants, which are the reason Lucanis is here.
"Do you have any mint?"
"Sure, how much do you need?"
"Lucanis, are you making tea?" Rook's voice pops up behind him, warm and teasing, and Lucanis forgets to wonder why Harding and Emmrich were talking about seagulls.
"It's for dinner," Lucanis sniffs. "For pesto."
He leaves with his handful of mint, catching Rook's twinkling eyes for a brief second as he steps past.
"Tea is definitely an enemy," he hears Rook say as the door closes behind him.
That night, as everyone trickles into the dining hall for dinner and Davrin says something about his uncle, it finally dawns on him.
"Family, enemies, and contracts," Lucanis says, hearing the words in Caterina's voice. He doesn't turn, continuing to crush garlic and salt in the mortar and pestle, and the chatter at the table behind him dies down. "Did Spite share that memory with you?"
"He did," Rook confirms, his warmth tinged with wariness. "Last week, when we were at the Cobbled Swan." A tactful way to put it. "And it came up again a few times. He's…confused, I think."
Not enough. Categories.
"So you turned it into a game?"
"We thought it might help him understand," Emmrich offers.
"And it is kind of funny to try to fit everything into one or the other," Harding says meekly.
"I thought Manfred invented a new version of rock, paper, scissors at first," Taash says, sounding vaguely disappointed.
"Family beats contract, contract beats enemy, enemy beats family?" Lucanis suggests wryly.
"That's grim," Neve mutters.
"Well yeah, now I know it's not that," Taash huffs.
"Did Spite fail to mention they're categories of people?" Lucanis asks.
Did not. Fail.
"No, we already did all the people."
"Including yourselves?"
"Family, obviously," Rook declares.
The sincerity in his voice lands like a hand on Lucanis's shoulder, finally turning him around.
Seven smiles greet him, and Rook's grows when Lucanis smiles back.
Family.