The scholar didn't pull away immediately, but his posture was rigid, a wall of stiff, intellectual pride that refused to lean into her support. "You should be with the child, Gwen. My center of gravity is currently uncalibrated. I am perfectly capable of finding the wall if I am left to crawl at my own pace."
"You are not crawling anywhere," she said, her tone turning into that fierce, protective iron she used when she was ready to challenge an army. She didn't let go of his waist; instead, she reached down with her right hand, her small fingers sliding through his long, cold palm, her knuckles locking into his with an absolute, unyielding grip. "The captains are fools. They see with their eyes because they are beasts, Lucien. But you and I... we have never looked at this world through the surface."
She took a slow step backward, her hand gently tugging his arm forward. "Walk with me. One step. The table is six inches to your left."
