"Alas, I didn't think ahead enough to write a how-to section on the mental tweaking thing. I've never taught anyone to do it."
Walking! Soon they will be down these stairs and at her mother's.
"I'm glad I was pessimistic enough to even include stairs."
"I don't think it's pessimistic," argues Adarin. "Preparing for the worst isn't pessimistic. Just careful."
"Whatever you'd like to call it. I thought I might need stairs, as abhorrent as stair-needing would be. I was right."
"All right," she eventually says, "why not."
He un-hugs after a reasonably appropriate span of time. And smiles at her.
"If there's a way I can help, let me know."
"When either of us has momentum to throw around, leave me room? I don't mean, fuck off into somewhere else, you can hang out, but I got used to being the only serious candidate and then the only actual sorceress attached to the place and it'd be hard to collide with a neighbor."
"I mean, I don't think the territory has anybody immediately adjoining. You can have a castle a short hop upriver," she shrugs, "cover the northeast. I won't mind."
"Sounds good. We can get into a castle contest. I can try to make a prettier one."
"You underestimate my aesthetic abilities," he sniffs. "I'll just have to show you otherwise, won't I."
Kithabel manages to make a sort of anemic knocking sound before they actually reach the door. With magic.
Adarin carefully stays out of the way and will leave them to their reunion until they require him.