For a split second, Brother Vesperus doesn't seem to grasp the exact meaning of that sentence—a comedic failure, given the exact facet of his chosen profession that he holds so dear. He searches Benedict's face there where the younger man sits behind his desk, split between 'I would have inherited her seat' and the absolute mortification that shows in his expression and struggling to align the two in a way which produces any actual meaning.

"You're an Altus." It sounds brusque, plain and unemotional and not like Laurentius has just blurted it out before even really considering its implications (which is definitely more in line with what he's done). "Who is your mother?"

Tactful.