[ Ah, he's been relegated to help... he raises a brow but he doesn't contest it, dutifully setting to work on his pile for lack of something better to do.

(And because it kind of reminds him of the few times he'd been allowed to help his brother do menial things as a kid, like fix his collar or tie his laces. Nostalgia is dangerous.) ]

Is she? I'm glad, then.

[ He says so breezily, and then appends: ]

But you should be careful, miss. She has a nasty habit of trying to wrench your nose off if you speak out of turn.