That she continued to shiver concerned him deeply, but it felt patronizing to contradict her own instruction. Her continued insistence that she was well was not false enough on the face of it to be ignored. If her shivering turned to shaking, maybe then he would be justified in taking her back to her room against her wishes.

    And maybe there would be something suspicious about a mere librarian making such decisions.

    "Ah… yes. There are some. It depends, of course. There are a few historical texts written in the vernacular, though most of them make a significant number of assumptions about the knowledge of the reader. In terms of… I assume you had in mind a general overview? Specifics are a bit easier, there is a bias toward specificity. Cultural habits, academic innovations, poetic analyses. Any works regarding the diaspora are in the old tongue, which I do not think would be of use to you."

    He had not expected such a request, and so in his consideration of it he was forced to switch mental gears, so to speak. His mind had previously been in an entirely different genre, nowhere near the shelves she seemed to want.

    He followed her gaze to one of the many desks littered about the library, one of the few reserved for his use. He did not often leave such work half-done, for anyone who passed to come across and interfere with. One would think that passerby would know better than to interfere with the work of the King, but even on Muskaptilo, library patrons could be remarkable in their determination to inconvenience.

    These were special circumstances. So to speak.

    "Something like that," he said, because she was close enough. "Show you how to repair books?" he asked, with more than a little surprise. Surprises compounded upon surprises. "You could watch me, I suppose, though I do not think it would be very interesting. If you are asking me to teach you, that would be much more difficult." Nonetheless, he moved toward the desk; if nothing else, there was a chair there that he could set her down in, rather than continuing to manhandle her.

    "Ah! Yes. Of course. That is... yes." He found himself feeling foolish for having not thought of it himself. It was a very practical request, a sensible desire to understand better the etiquette involved in day-to-day living. Difficult enough to be a woman without a memory without also being a foreigner, living in a land of customs and rules unfamiliar at the best of times. Not knowing how to safely interact must surely have had her feeling even more adrift, lost and alone in an unfriendly castle.

    Very little about Muskaptilo was friendly, all told. It was not one of their virtues.

    "You are unlikely to offend," he said, a vague attempt to be reassuring. "We do not stand much on ceremony." Which was certainly one way of saying that they tended to be rude, bristly and abrasive and curt. "The ones who have moved here, perhaps – but any books wouldn't apply to them." Women like Ruby, girls like the ones who'd been seeing to her needs, women like... not quite like Sophiana. No one was in quite the same situation as Sophiana. Thankfully.

    "If you're sure," he said, carrying her yet nearer to the desk, her fingers cold against his skin. He still was not convinced that it would be an interesting thing to watch, and he did not think she'd want to do so for long. He liked fixing bindings well enough; there was something meditative about it, well-practiced enough that he didn't need to think about it, working through muscle memory. But watching someone else was a different matter entirely.

    Unfortunately, there was only one chair at the desk – one he'd need to use if he was to work. After a moment's hesitation, he set her down on the edge of the desk. "My apologies," he said, as his limbs left her. "I do not often have company." He sat, but again his motions were hesitant, not sure himself of the etiquette of this situation. Somehow he doubted this was included in many books. Sitting in a chair while she sat on the desk turned out to be awkward for any number of reasons, not least of which was their relative positions to one another.

    Nope. Too awkward.

    "Excuse me," he said. "If you will just give me a moment, I will retrieve a more suitable place for you to be seated."

    "Of... of course." He seemed thus far incapable of conveying what he meant to, consistently conveying offense instead. "I did not mean to be dismissive of your motives. To learn more about a culture and its practices is of course admirable. I only meant to say that you should not allow your ignorance to cause you anxiety. Which is not to say that you are ignorant, but rather, there are many things here that you do not yet know. Which is why you seek to learn them. Which is admirable."

    Things like this were why it was a bad idea to talk in libraries.

    It was only after his departure that it occurred to him that the swiftness of it might cause offense. He didn't mean to make her think he wanted to be away from her.

    Though he did. Not because of anything she'd done. He just preferred to avoid people around whom he made an ass of himself. Which was most people, but Sophiana in particular seemed to be causing him difficulty. Because she was so foreign, maybe, or because she was such a fragile thing. Arjun did not deal well with the fragile.

    He could have sworn they'd had more chairs. Most of them seemed to be larger than he remembered, heavier, not suited to be moved. He considered moving one anyway. That would look ridiculous, wouldn't it? Coming back with some great big heavy thing?

    Even chairs were too difficult a decision for him to handle with grace, now.

    Finally he found something that seemed acceptable, a slender wooden thing similar to the chair already at his desk. His return was alternately too fast and too slow. He couldn't decide if it was more uncomfortable to leave her waiting or to sit with her.

    "Here," he said as he returned, setting the chair across the desk from his. That seemed like a safe choice. It would allow her to watch what he did while keeping a respectable distance between them. And a desk. A desk would also be between them. "I apologize for the delay," he added, his hands sliding along her back and beneath her legs to pick her up off the desk. "In the future I will attempt to plan better for such eventualities." He set her down into the chair, and tried to arrange her various scarves and so on in a manner that seemed more comfortable.

    Which... was actually... very rude...

    "My apologies again," he said stiffly as he stood. "I forget myself. I did not intend to disrespect your personal space." He returned to his chair on the other side of the desk before he could do anything else foolish. Not that it was likely to stop him. He could always do something foolish.