[ In the back of his mind, it occurs to Daud that the sight of Corvo Attano tending to paperwork is a strange one. Such work must be part - maybe most - of the man's daily routine, but it's nothing Daud's ever associated with him. Not after the way the met, the way Corvo came to hold meaning in his life.
He catches the implication of those words, Corvo's specification that Billie's no prisoner (which is good to hear; Billie shouldn't be kept or locked up anywhere, should always be free to go), his suggestion that Daud is something else.
Which wasn't what Daud had agreed on. (As if he can remember agreeing to anything at all. That memory's gone in the fire of fever and his narrowly avoided end. He might have agreed to anything at all. He doesn't like that idea.)
He makes himself keep his focus on Corvo, barely resists an urge to look down at his own clenched fist. ]
no subject
He catches the implication of those words, Corvo's specification that Billie's no prisoner (which is good to hear; Billie shouldn't be kept or locked up anywhere, should always be free to go), his suggestion that Daud is something else.
Which wasn't what Daud had agreed on. (As if he can remember agreeing to anything at all. That memory's gone in the fire of fever and his narrowly avoided end. He might have agreed to anything at all. He doesn't like that idea.)
He makes himself keep his focus on Corvo, barely resists an urge to look down at his own clenched fist. ]
And I am.