Stephen exhales. Even now, he has a tendency to combat earnestness with humour, and so he says, “Flattery is a low blow, Ennaris, but it does get you everywhere.”

He instinctively straightens more of the paperwork, and out of the corner of his eye, sees point four on the list like a meeting agenda. Continues, “And I dunno, I’d still like the magic. I’d actually feel better if we were cutting open your skull vs chopping off your limb. I’m not a cardiovascular surgeon. Cardiovascular surgeons are assholes.”

Some of that professional mask had dropped, his tone turning lighter in reflexive defensive response to all that heart-open desperate faith and trust. They’ve reached the end of the list. He’s stalling.