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[roseofmay]

[She's not said any of this to get something in return. Initial instinct tells her she said it to reassure him, but maybe she's reassuring herself as well. That she isn't as heartless as she seems to think she is or has been. That she isn't all ice and stone and unwelcoming things.

Maybe... a part of her is afraid of the people here viewing her in such a way. When she realises she doesn't have an explanation for that and considers further that she is probably not ready to start diving into any of it, it may be for the best to simply let it go. Not to overthink it the way she seems to overthink everything else.

Clearing her throat, she shakes her head.]

Yes, well. I appreciate it. But this is becoming awkward.

[So instead—

Beatrix lifts the last remaining pieces of fruit she's been holding onto.]

Show me where I can put these and then I am going to get out of your hair.

[...Not that she would say he really has hair. Whatever. She's already said it. She's already embarrassed herself plenty on this day. What's one more stupid thing coming out of her mouth.]

[pactmarshal]

[ The sentimentality of the moment passes when Beatrix clears her throat, and in a way, Trahearne is a little thankful for that. If this had continued any longer, he might have found himself wondering if he is really able to handle the intense, personal kindness the others have been showing him. He's realized that having to step back and evaluate his life here versus the one he had in Tyria is an experience he finds to be...uncomfortable.

But that doesn't happen. He smiles as she motions to the fruit, and he grabs a large wooden bowl in which he placed a few apples earlier and scoots it towards her. ]

The fruit should last me a while. I think you made the right choice.

[ He wants to thank her again, but he's probably said that enough by now. He makes no mention or reaction to mention of hair; he takes the metaphor in stride. ]

I hope the rest of your recovery goes smoothly and quickly.

DIS A WRAP WRAP, I THINK.

[roseofmay]

[She smiles. Light. Subdued. Nigh inconspicuous. There all the same.

Her posture stiffens, or perhaps it's never really loosened to begin with, and Beatrix dips her chin in a wordless acknowledgement, inwardly pleased he's found favour with what she's picked out for him. He wishes her well and she finds that she reflects the very same feelings toward him.

Beatrix falls into habits of old, bending at the waist in a polite bow before she raises again.]

Likewise, Trahearne. If you have need of anything, you know how to reach me. I can see myself out.