Despite herself, it pulls a smile from the corner of her mouth, a breath of amusement that forestalls what of a certainty would have been a gentle haranguing that he should really consider formalising his own wishes, particularly with regard to the thorough records she has known him to keep—

She thinks of Holden, then, and feels that pang of loss anew. That Riftwatch cannot rely on him any longer; that she cannot know his thoughts on her course. It feels like a conversation they might have had late by crystal, and the gap in her knowledge of him that leaves what he might have had to say obscured feels particularly unfair.

“I must make a note that he ought to wear a deep blue, instead.” She splays the fingers of a hand she’s made her mind up to lose, studying them as if to commit to memory, “He and Marcus—” so this is an informal conversation indeed, “—assured me, first this came to discussion, that they would support whichever path I chose. I suppose that it came to discussion at all was the beginning of a decision.”