[There are even more formal versions that involve various recitations of Harrowhark's lineage and the whole host of her ceremonial titles. Ortus is a dutiful servant, but even he finds them tedious.]

I was her cavalier, in life. In truth, it was a title I was never suited for, nor one I sought to hold. [There's no trace of regret or disappointment in his voice about that; it rather more sounds like relief.] I am not certain what she will ask of me now. I have little aptitude for ought but poetry.

[Despite the way he phrases it, there is a minute tinge of pride when he speaks of his talents. He had proven their worth, to his own dazzled amazement - and when he thinks of it again, the pinnacle of that achievement, the dark and flashing eyes of the very heart of his work -

His face feels oddly warm beneath his paint. He nurses his beer to cool it. They are speaking of serious matters.]

Perhaps that is what I may seek to give her. Time, and a listening ear when she is ready to speak. Not unlike you have done for me. [He acknowledges Viktor's generosity with a nod.] I would be grateful to see the Warden's notes, if he is willing to share them with one such as I. His reputation precedes him. I understand he has an exceptional intellect.