[ Maker. What to do with this? Byerly has been accustomed, all his life, to people finding ways to avoid talking to him. Never once has he heard someone express an anxiety that he'd go away - only ever anxiety that he wouldn't go away.
What a strange life it is, he reflects, that he has come to lead. ]
[Bene's smile returns, but goes a bit strange: he's not sure he wants to see that happen. Historically, he doesn't lend himself well to outranking people.
But no need to borrow trouble from the future, maybe it won't happen.]
I have been scandal-free for going on four years now. Or close enough to scandal-free. I wouldn't even have to try to be more scandalous than I have been. If anything, it shall be like releasing a muscle that has been clenched for far too long.
[The incredulous look Byerly receives is genuine this time: Benedict fully doesn't know what to do with that kind of... what, control? Power over Byerly, of all people?
He shakes his head slightly, uneasily.]
...I don't keep slaves anymore. [he's not going to forbid anything, damn]
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Would it upset you if I did?
[ - but it's not mocking or cruel. For once, it's a genuine question. ]
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No. It is not my intention to leave. There's still a war to be fought, after all.
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And you’ll still, [he begins, but stops the question before he can ask it. Too pathetic, abort,]
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Still...? What?
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He looks down and away, holding onto what little poise he can maintain in this moment.]
…talk to me, [he mumbles.
It’s been years, and they’ve spent almost every day together in some capacity. Suddenly not having Byerly around sounds strange. Sad.]
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What a strange life it is, he reflects, that he has come to lead. ]
I suppose that depends.
[ His voice is light, and far from unkind. ]
Do you have any intention of becoming a bore?
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It's a joke.]
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[ A little smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. ]
If you stay on as assistant, you may even end up my superior.
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[Bene's smile returns, but goes a bit strange: he's not sure he wants to see that happen. Historically, he doesn't lend himself well to outranking people.
But no need to borrow trouble from the future, maybe it won't happen.]
What will you do instead?
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[ He shrugs. ]
Be a bit more dissolute, a bit more scandalous. Rub elbows with less respectable company.
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[ He seems affronted at this question. ]
I have been scandal-free for going on four years now. Or close enough to scandal-free. I wouldn't even have to try to be more scandalous than I have been. If anything, it shall be like releasing a muscle that has been clenched for far too long.
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[ His fingertips give a faint sense of awkwardness as he fiddles with his pen. ]
So you are...all right with this?
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I have to be, don't I?
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[ The awkwardness grows just a bit. ]
You can, in fact, forbid it. If you so choose. I - will not leave you without protection if you truly feel you must have it.
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He shakes his head slightly, uneasily.]
...I don't keep slaves anymore. [he's not going to forbid anything, damn]
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All right. Then to phrase it a bit more gently: your disapproval is of consequence to me. I care.
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[The corner of his mouth twitches up in a sheepish smirk, which goes away just as quickly.]
But who would that benefit? Even if I could make you stay in the role, I couldn’t make you like it. I can’t… be responsible for that.
[He squares his shoulders.]
And besides, I don’t think you’d ever forgive me.
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That would be an idiotic thing to hold a grudge over. It would be my choice.
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[He pauses, then, furrowing his brow right back,]
Byerly, why would you ever do that.
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[ That's glib, surface-level. Easier than something more personal and true. ]
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Is it? Do you have no concept of service amongst the Alti? No noblesse oblige, as the Orlesians say?
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