He'd only stayed this long because she'd interceded on his last exit — feeling some small spike of shame, Jasnah manages to contain any inclination to stop him again. She can't (she shouldn't) monopolize his nighttime hours. She can't (she shouldn't) ask him to be her musical accompaniment until she passes out at her desk. She can't (she shouldn't) follow him back to steal his bed yet again.
So — exercising some of that impressive willpower — she nods her way through his segue.
"Of course. Far be it from me to stand in the way of your scholarship."
He has the fleeting desire to stick around and read in that chair while she works, but unlike her can'ts, there are some things he really can't do. While he likes to think of them as equals, even he has to acknowledge that there's a power dynamic here. One that allows Jasnah to keep and dismiss him as she pleases, but doesn't let him do the same. Besides, it's late. They should really stop spending so much time together at night. For someone who cares so much about appearances, she doesn't seem to wonder enough if that'll reflect well on her.
Verso tucks the books underneath his arm and, very boldly, reaches out to touch the very tips of his fingers to her upper arm. It's far less physical contact than they'd had when waltzing, but he somehow feels nervous about it regardless.
"—Well, good night."
And then it's over, and he's absconding back to his quarters.
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So — exercising some of that impressive willpower — she nods her way through his segue.
"Of course. Far be it from me to stand in the way of your scholarship."
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Verso tucks the books underneath his arm and, very boldly, reaches out to touch the very tips of his fingers to her upper arm. It's far less physical contact than they'd had when waltzing, but he somehow feels nervous about it regardless.
"—Well, good night."
And then it's over, and he's absconding back to his quarters.
no subject