But he would be allowed to go to her.
That was the difference.
Caspian could stand outside Quill’s office and be called protection.
Hale couldn’t.
Neither could I.
“You think I should do nothing.”
“No.”
“Then I misunderstood the part where you stopped me.”
“I think you should do something Quill cannot use against us. Against her.”
“Brilliant. Care to tell me what that might be, wise instructor Hale?”
“Be seen elsewhere.”
I stared at him.
Unmoved.
Infuriating.
Right.
“You want me to give her an alibi.”
“I want you to follow the same advice Aldric gave me. Let the hall see you somewhere else before Quill can say you were drawn to her.”
“And you?”
“I’ll do the same.”
Hale stood too still, which was its own kind of confession. He was holding himself back with the same discipline he used on a classroom full of loud, unruly kids with staves.
“If you’re outside Quill’s office, you’re a problem,” he said. “If you’re at lunch irritating the second-years with bad jokes, you’re only yourself.”
“You make my bad jokes sound very strategic.”
“Someone has to apply strategy here. I suspect it isn’t your forte, Marsh.”
For one second, I almost liked him.
Unacceptable.
“And you?” I asked.
“I have a class to teach.”
“And if she needs you?”
His Mark lit, and for one second, it broke through him like the sharp breath that he swallowed back down.
Not completely.
