[The tracery of the Saint of Patience's gaze is profoundly unsettling. For all that he is layered in stiff Ninth black cloth and dutifully painted, Ortus feels exposed beneath it, his vulnerabilities (of which there are many) laid bare for the Saint's perusal.
He cannot help but to quiver at the correction of the Saint's title, his eyes darting up fretfully from the earth to him, which is when he beholds the incomprehensible sight of the Saint's speculation.
He wets the seam of his lips lightly, the habitual abbreviation of the gesture common to those who bear the Ninth skulls and do not relish the taste of their paint, and drops his attention sidelong to the dirt.]
In whatever capacity my Lady sees fit, or yourself, Saint of Patience.
[The dully correct and meaningless answer, meekly given. He should leave it at that. He knows that he should. The man before him is not Harrowhark, given to forbearance due to long acquaintance.]
But in the specific, I have a measure of skill in poetry. I have found it provides my Lady some comfort in her hours of difficulty.
[There's nothing objectionable in the statement, no reason given to suppose he refers to anything but the general difficulties of life itself, and it is wholly appropriate for a former cavalier to be devoted to providing a measure of respite against them.]
no subject
He cannot help but to quiver at the correction of the Saint's title, his eyes darting up fretfully from the earth to him, which is when he beholds the incomprehensible sight of the Saint's speculation.
He wets the seam of his lips lightly, the habitual abbreviation of the gesture common to those who bear the Ninth skulls and do not relish the taste of their paint, and drops his attention sidelong to the dirt.]
In whatever capacity my Lady sees fit, or yourself, Saint of Patience.
[The dully correct and meaningless answer, meekly given. He should leave it at that. He knows that he should. The man before him is not Harrowhark, given to forbearance due to long acquaintance.]
But in the specific, I have a measure of skill in poetry. I have found it provides my Lady some comfort in her hours of difficulty.
[There's nothing objectionable in the statement, no reason given to suppose he refers to anything but the general difficulties of life itself, and it is wholly appropriate for a former cavalier to be devoted to providing a measure of respite against them.]