"Because then no one can put me back there."

"Eh, fair enough, but consider instead becoming enormously powerful and then fucking off to an uninhabited planet and building yourself the prettiest house imaginable where you can live in comfort and luxury and not having to fucking deal with anyone's opinions about your personal aesthetic choices ever again in your life."

"But becoming god-emperor is my personal aesthetic," Tom says, moving swiftly past his moment of vulnerability.

"Can't argue with that!" she says cheerfully.

(Chantal looks like she might perhaps wish to argue with that, if she were capable of arguing with anything.)

"I'll keep him on track," Edmund reassures her. 

"Which of us is enthralled to the other, again?"

"—oh, I wasn't—I'm not—I didn't mean to be rude," she says haltingly.

"Let's not have it be rude to make subtle facial expressions while other people are talking, that sounds like a terrible idea."

"Entirely agreed. I just wanted to be reassuring."

"And I didn't."

"Yes, that does seem to be how you two operate."

"Oh, have you figured us out already?"

"Was I not supposed to have?"

"What if Chantal and I go get some food?" Edmund says abruptly. "I know what you like, Tom; Ysandre, tastes?"

"Quantity over quality, I'm hungry and adventurous."

"Got it. Chantal, you coming?"

"Sure, okay."

Edmund heads out, a spring in his step, leading Chantal.

Once they're out of earshot and then some, he says "Sorry for Shanghaiing you. It's just - I wanted to see if you needed help."

"What do you mean?" she says, nervously, not that she has ever not been nervous.

"You're edging around like you don't feel safe. I want to know if there's something I can do to make you feel less... like that. I can tell Tom you're not interesting, or - ask Ysandre to keep an eye out for you - or scout out the students in the other dorms and tell you what they're like - just, what do you need? To be alright."

She blinks a few times. "Um. I don't—um. I think my being this way is mostly not—about—things? I am just sort of very nervous as a person. It's fine. I'm fine."

"...if you don't want to talk about it, I'll understand. And - I don't need a reason to help you feel safer. Just let me know if there's anything I can do?"

"I, um, thank you. I'm not sure... sorry, I don't know how to... I guess I, um, don't have a lot of practice answering that question? Sorry."

"Well - do any of the things I said sound like they'd help you? Telling Tom you're not interesting, scouting out the other students for you, asking Ysandre to keep an eye out?"