Eric's eyes slid down to her feet, which now rested on a leg. She was very forward. Didn't seem to need to ask permission for things. He looked back up at her face.
"I don't think you're giving me enough credit on knowing how things work." He closed his eyes again, tilting his head upward. Any human would have been beyond cooked with the heat of the bath and how stuffy the room was with steam. Luckily his skin wouldn't sustain damage, and he didn't have to breathe.
"Platonic?" He raised an eyebrow. He had no idea what she meant by that.
"What's the use in worrying about it? There's nothing that can be done to stop it. Either I go, he goes, we combine, or we both go, right? The City will decide. Until it does, I would like to enjoy the luxuries this world has to offer, just in case I am sent back to that hellhole. Tailored suits, long hot baths, feeding until I might pop. Cars, clean sheets. You can't really understand how much we take for granted until it's all taken away."
Her other question was more curious, and his eyes opened again. "I would never hurt Pam. Whatever version of her might be there. I can't imagine you would let me do anything with you, Baba Yaga. You are his wife because you choose to be, not because he forced you into it. I wouldn't presume anything. That would have to be a discussion, I suppose."