They're all quiet for a little while; the chill of the water fades away, and the heat of Toast on his chest seems to radiate through him, easing some of the muscle aches. His hand, though still tingly, seems to be already healed - although the wounds left by the manacles and the God's bites are not.

"Apparently you don't think promises to gods matter, just because you made them during a difficult moment," Toast says eventually. "So I would like you to promise me that I if I let you up and take you to your room and give you privacy there, you won't make me derelict in my duty to look after you by harming yourself, let's say, until the next time He comes to you."

After that they can renegotiate.