He himself had removed his shirt to reassure Kaveh that that alone was the full extent of his injuries. Aside from a bruise on his side from a well-placed kick he was unable to defend from, the gash was the only thing of note.

If of note at all. He looks down around his shoulder, curious at the way the architect's hands moved. Dexterous fingers and steady wrists, stronger than they looked. Alhaitham doesn't remember a time when he hadn't been mesmerized to watch them work.

He shakes his head. "I've dealt with worse," on anyone, this could be a statement of bravado. On Alhaitham, it's just fact. "I'm impressed," is how he thanks Kaveh softly. "Maybe you should have studied in Amurta instead."