[ In the end, she recoils from him, though as surely as she takes the steps to withdraw, she keeps her eyes trained upon him as though she'd trouble differentiating a threat from a friend; an open hand from a closed one, ready to strike. I will never give you reason to be fearful of me, he'd said to her, once upon a time, and he wonders if she remembers it now, the promise which he'd made to her as the streets of Leith bustled with revelers and merriment, and Alice herself had been so terribly hesitant; so shy.

Fingers curling, he presses the flat of his hand to his chest, his palm resting over his heart as he regards her with a careful look, relieved if only because she seems to no longer be in danger of drifting off, into a place where even his words would not be able to reach her.

(Where she would torment herself, because in her eyes he sees the weight of her guilt; the blame which she will not shake from her shoulders in one night.) ]

Come what may, I am here for you. [ Shaking his head, his fingers curl into the fabric of his uniform, his stance evocative of the way some storybook prince might swear an oath; take a pledge. ] More than anything, I loathe the fact that you would have me leave your side, but--...
[ His expression softens as he relents: ]

I understand. You protected both yourself and Gwen, and I will honor that. [ By caring for the girl who has been alerted to another presence within the house; the echoes of another voice which causes movement to stir on the second floor of the home, little footsteps and the soft sounds of crying becoming audible. ] But you must not forget yourself while I am away.

Send for me, in the instant you should need for anything.