"Of course," he said automatically, though this meant bending down a little uncomfortably to be sure she could reach. He wrapped his arm around her, beneath her own, to help support her in turn; but when she pressed her forehead to his, it caught him off-guard and made him flush. He wouldn't recoil, or try to turn his head away, as much as his instinct lead him to do so. What a strange woman she was, to be hurt so badly and behave so affectionately, when she had not even memories to call her own.

    "I am not that young," he muttered, averting his gaze; threads of silver in his hair and an ache in knees when the weather got cold. Not old yet, either, but he felt old. Surrounded by girls who baffled and occasionally infuriated him, accidental father figure to an island of waifs. It was enough to make anyone feel old.

    "Just to the end of the hall, then," he agreed, eager to have it done with as quick as they could without hurting her. He wanted her safe and comfortable in bed, swaddled in cushions and with no chance that his clumsiness might hurt her. Not that he was a clumsy man, far from it, but comparatively speaking he felt as graceful as a brick. He followed her lead as they moved, cautious and careful, watching their feet more than anything in case their limbs betrayed them.

    Having not the slightest inkling of what was going through her mind, Arjun only knew that she seemed very relaxed, under the circumstances. It was reassuring to think that she found him trustworthy, enough that she not only was willing to entrust him with his safety, but comfortable. And if she was pale and delicate and soft, he chose not to notice those things, because he did not want to be the sort of person that would.

    What he did notice was when she shivered, drew the shawl closer around herself. It was not the kind of shiver he associated with pain, nor the kind of expression on her face. He noticed no draft that could explain such behavior, and therefore could only assume he had said something he shouldn't have. Perhaps she had not realized how old he was? He'd thought it quite obvious just to look at him, but maybe in the place she'd been from, the place she could not remember, they showed their age differently.

    But why would she care about his age? He didn't think he had behaved in any untoward way, but he was struck with the thought that she might think him a creepy old man. If he had behaved too intimately–

    Her question derailed his train of thought entirely, though his steps did not falter. She sounded very genuine, and that puzzled him all the more. "At my age," he said cautiously, "one tends to categorize those younger into broad categories. Everyone younger than twenty appears to me to be a child, and everyone under thirty looks to be barely more than a child. I cannot imagine you to be older than thirty, and certainly not by much. But I am far from reliable in such assessments."

    If she was more attentive to him than was necessary, if she pushed herself for his sake, Arjun did not notice. Not because he was inattentive, but because these were things he tended not to notice. Even before he had been King, the behaviors and lives of other servants within the castle had not been something he ever cared to notice. If they were not in his library, if they were not in his way, then what reason did he have to notice what they did or why?

    Being King meant he probably ought to have tried to be better about that kind of thing. To a certain extent, he was. He cared now about the safety of his subjects, where they were employed and why, that they were at least content if not happy. He cared about Sophiana and what had happened to her, when before it would not have been a matter of his concern.

    He missed not needing to worry about things not shelved in leather.

    Barely a woman, she said, which by his own standards was technically accurate. It sounded strange when she said it, anyway. "Woman enough, I'm sure," he said, and only after he'd said it did he decide that it made things worse. Better, probably, to have let her have the thought and leave it well enough alone.

    Just one of many reasons he generally preferred not being made to say words.

    Only because he felt somewhat awkward did he notice her gaze, though he tried not to be too obviously self-conscious. There seemed to be an odd twist to her mouth, perhaps thoughtful, though not knowing what was in her mind meant he could only guess. It could as easily have been that she had something stuck in her teeth.

    Whatever he thought, it came as a surprise when she embraced him, not least because it seemed too active for her state. But also because most people knew better than to try and hug him, because his were not a particularly touchy people, because being hugged was almost never something that occurred to him as a possibility. His hands went to her waist as a reflex, not wanting her to fell over and hurt herself yet worse than she had. "I am pleased to have been of use to you," he said finally, which was not very articulate, but he could think of nothing else to say. It was true, anyway.

    He was really very bad at this.

    For a time, she did not move; perhaps she needed to catch her breath, or so he guessed, based on how deeply she seemed to breathe. With this assumption, it did not come as a surprise to him that she would ask for his assistance getting back to her quarters. "It is no inconvenience," he assured her, because he considered the situation as much his fault as her own. "I apologize for allowing us to get so far astray." The way she clung to him made him feel guilty, as though he had put her in a situation where she was yet more helpless. "Only give me a moment – I will try not to cause you discomfort."

    He knelt, one arm around her waist and another going underneath her legs so that he could hold her much as he had when he'd first found her. He couldn't tell if she was shivering from the cold or from pain, but he hoped that holding her against his chest would resolve the issue either way. He checked that she had not dropped her shawl, or any other such thing, held her as gently as he could so as not to put undue pressure on anything.

    Taking a few steps back toward her room, he hesitated. "Is this comfortable?" he asked. "Was there anything else you wanted to do before we return?" Perhaps she wanted to see the view from elsewhere, something more interesting than what she could see from her room.

    Arjun did not expect that she would ask much of him, except to be brought back to comfort and safety. Legs that would not carry her and a spine that would not stay straight, to carry her could feel no kinder to her head. Old Woman Josie would doubtless be displeased with him no matter what he did with her at this juncture. He would be lectured for failing to assist her in exercising, he would be lectured for not leaving her in bed, he would be lectured for not giving her a certain medicine at a certain time in a certain way. There were no right answers, here.

    It at least worked in his favor that she did not find it unpleasant or offensive to be carried, which he found easier than the alternatives. It helped, in this regard, that she was so small; but it was not a preference specific to her. His life would be much simpler if he could simply move people about as he saw fit, picking them up to get them out of his way or to put them where they wanted to go. Easier than giving direction, Kingly authority or no.

    Her request to see the library was surprising, though it probably should not have been. Sophiana had been showing an interest in the books they had available since her arrival, a hunger for words. She would not be dissuaded by her physical ailments, and now that he was acting as her legs she wished to take advantage. He could not begrudge her the desire.

    "Ah – it is not far at all. It is a part of the palace, though most of it is underground. The upper floors are… not used." The cold and the damp were bad for the books, bad for the stone that would crumble on top of them, bad for most things. Warmer, drier, safer underground. "As with most of our buildings, it is not quite so nice to look at from the outside. From within, perhaps, but not from without." He had already begun walking in the appropriate direction, towards the maze of halls and stairs that would take them to the first floor of the library. A side door, but the one he used most often, regardless.

    Arjun frowned as Sophiana trembled in his arms, seeming to want to hold on to him tightly. Was she cold, or frightened? Could he do anything for her, regardless? He wasn't convinced that he could. What good was warmth or courage to a librarian? Not half so useful as a good memory and a bit of strength.

    "Do you need another shawl?" he asked. The only other one he had was around his waist, and she seemed quite bundled up already besides. But it seemed the thing to do to ask, if only to be hospitable.

    Muskaptilians were generally about as hospitable as Muskaptilo – which was to say, not very – and their king was no exception. Usually he was less hospitable than most. A wounded woman constituted special circumstances, but it was obvious how out-of-practice he was at being accommodating.

    The stairs were not an issue, having carried heavier things in stranger ways. Opening the door to the library while holding a woman was tricky business, and he jostled her more than he would have liked to in the process. Still, in the end they were where they'd meant to go.

    "We are here," he said, as if it were not immediately obvious. Though less impressive than it was if one came through the main doors, it was still quite the sight, enormous bookshelves carved out of stone spanning multiple stories. Light streamed down from above, glowed soft from glass lanterns on the walls. The enormity of it gave the impression that it was too large a place to have fit on such a small island, tall and wide and not at all the claustrophobic maze that was the rest of the castle she'd seen so far. Dragons decorated the stone, heads jutting out at the corners of the shelves, and the floor was inlaid with fractals spiraling outward.

    None of the shelves were labeled, despite the seemingly infinite spines of leather and cloth and sometimes bone. After all: that was what the librarian was for.

    Arjun's frown deepened, because despite her claims, she still seemed to be discomfited. Did she think he was unwilling to accommodate her? He thought he had done more than enough to prove his willingness to serve her to the best of his ability. She could not be refusing due to his status, because she knew nothing about it. Perhaps she assumed a librarian to lack the necessary resources to truly make her comfortable.

    Unless she was shivering from pain, and not the temperature. In which case it was possible that she did not want him to know, for fear her would return her to her bed. He resolved to keep an eye on her, to see if such behaviors persisted. He did not want to carry her away against her will, but he also would not hesitate to do so if he thought it truly necessary.

    She seemed to appreciate the splendor of the library, if not as much as he did. Then again, there were few who did. The occasional scholar who travelled for months to reach them, and their enthusiasm both pleased him and made him anxious. They were the most appreciative, but they were also the most likely to try and steal some of their collection.

    They had dungeons, as any self-respecting castle must, but he usually preferred to simply banish them. Leave them in the brig of the Dragonstar, and let Circe deal with them. Better that than having to deal with them himself. There had been no one in their dungeons in his lifetime, and he had hoped this would always be the case. With what had been done to Sophiana, however, that was brought into question. He might be willing to make an exception for that.

    He was visibly taken aback as she seemed, suddenly, to smell him. He had not the slightest idea how to respond to such a thing. It had not, as far as he could recall, ever happened before. Should he be offended? Flattered? He didn't think that this could possibly be a common thing where she was from, because surely it would have arisen before if it was. Circe had brought home many women, and none of them had ever tried to… smell him.

    "Oh," he said, blinking as she explained herself. "I suppose that makes sense," he said, though it had never occurred to him that the effect might be so pronounced. It may have been that she was possessed of a particularly sensitive nose. Or else he had not been in close contact with anyone else for long enough. "I am not angry," he assured her, though he was still mildly confused. "Was there anything in particular you wanted to look at?" His eyes left her to skim the shelves, looking for a section that might interest her.