"Strange in what way?" He leans forward, studying her.
"Is there some reason you're avoiding telling me precisely what it is they're asking?" Roland doesn't say it like an accusation, because it isn't one. It's just an observation, one which might or might not be true but which he delivers dispassionately, looking at her as if he can tell already simply by looking and is only asking out loud for her sake. It's the type of stare certain old friends of his used to hate, he remembers that briefly, but over the years it's served him fairly well.
But she isn't one of his students, he remembers, and so he's got no right to try and pry anything out of her. He leans back, looking away from her. "You owe them nothing, in any case, no matter what it is they ask. You do know that?"
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"Is there some reason you're avoiding telling me precisely what it is they're asking?" Roland doesn't say it like an accusation, because it isn't one. It's just an observation, one which might or might not be true but which he delivers dispassionately, looking at her as if he can tell already simply by looking and is only asking out loud for her sake. It's the type of stare certain old friends of his used to hate, he remembers that briefly, but over the years it's served him fairly well.
But she isn't one of his students, he remembers, and so he's got no right to try and pry anything out of her. He leans back, looking away from her. "You owe them nothing, in any case, no matter what it is they ask. You do know that?"