His smile is vague. He could wink, loop Benedict in, but that’s no good; Bastien doesn’t trust him not to fumble a lie.
Anyway, it is very unlikely anyone will miss them, and doubly unlikely someone who misses them will see them on Benedict. Maker bless the eluvian network for allowing easy geographical dispersement of crimes.
Somehow the reassurance only increases Benedict's doubts, and his face falls a little further-- he's going to wear them, obviously, but perhaps at his own risk. He'll never look gift earrings in the. Posts?
He's inspecting them again when Bastien turns to go, but attempts to still him with a furtive "wait." It's awkward, and he has that very particular Inconvenienced Nobility look about him, like he's about to do something he doesn't want to but knows he should.
"I'm sorry," he adds, trying not to look away, "for what I said." About Rat Red, of course.
That smile is almost more unnerving than if he'd gotten mad. Alarm bells are sounding in Benedict's brain, but to speak on them would be far worse than to let them be-- he's not prepared for that conversation, and may never be.
"...all right," he accepts, gently skating past that answer, because, in truth, "I'd like that."
Benedict doesn't stop him, but offers a nod of acknowledgment and, wisely, doesn't throw any further salt in the wound. That was cordial. Maybe it'll be all right.
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His smile is vague. He could wink, loop Benedict in, but that’s no good; Bastien doesn’t trust him not to fumble a lie.
Anyway, it is very unlikely anyone will miss them, and doubly unlikely someone who misses them will see them on Benedict. Maker bless the eluvian network for allowing easy geographical dispersement of crimes.
“I’ll let you get back to work.”
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He's inspecting them again when Bastien turns to go, but attempts to still him with a furtive "wait."
It's awkward, and he has that very particular Inconvenienced Nobility look about him, like he's about to do something he doesn't want to but knows he should.
"I'm sorry," he adds, trying not to look away, "for what I said." About Rat Red, of course.
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“It’s alright,” he says. “It’s true.”
Another thing that is sooooo fine.
“I can bring her along when I come to the Gallows tomorrow if you want an office dog for a couple of hours.”
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"...all right," he accepts, gently skating past that answer, because, in truth, "I'd like that."
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It's paired with a tentative step back from the door. Now can he go? Yes? Great.
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That was cordial. Maybe it'll be all right.