[He's a blunt instrument, a man who would prefer the simplicity of direction and given orders, rather than any amount of deeper thought. It isn't as if he hadn't needed to devise strategies or discern deeper plots while serving at the Emperor's side— or that of his son's— but that it pulls more from him, those efforts. He's hardly peregrine, only a man with a keen nose and sharper intuition.
Still. He does his best.]
Less talking. Less wine and finery involved in his given assignments, and more grit. His strengths would not be wasted on joint missions where the rest of those gathered make their way by blade, and need only one clever tongue amongst them.
There is merit in it, the absence of thought under press of action at times. It builds instincts, those more inclined to be selfless than selfish.
[The more protective Benedict is of his companions, the better the odds he'll choose in favor of their shared benefit, rather than dreading his own footing. Or so Gabranth thinks, judging by the lesser experiences he'd had in Archades.]
With your permission, I would take him with me for some of my own endeavors.
[ He's quiet a moment. Taps his finger lightly against his desk. Finally: ]
My hesitation comes from the fact that the fear that I've seen from the boy is fear of people, not of mortal peril. He flinches away from scolding, from condemnation. I'll grant you true enough that I've not often seen him in life-or-death situations, but my personal thought is - has been - that he ought to build strength against people. That he ought to be exposed to people, and that he ought to learn to resist or to repudiate them.
[ And then, wryly: ] Wine and finery can require grit, as well, you know.
[ He rubs his chin thoughtfully at that. That's good. ]
Then he's gaining a bit of mettle, it seems. When he first came to me, he vacillated widely between defiance and fear. What were the slights in question?
[Oh Byerly, you had to ask. For a long moment, Gabranth is silent. For longer still, in fact, as he exhales thinly through his nose in steeling preparation to deliver his own recount of events in the most distant and unfeeling way possible.]
He disrespectfully dismissed me before the Orlesian nobility when I came to collect him in order to prepare him for the battle ahead. [Slight one.] He then insulted me in private, disregarding my attempts at reinforcing the gravity of what we had been sent to do. [Slight two.
The last takes a beat longer to dislodge:]
...He then struck me in the eye, when I proposed that he dissolve our association if it was so undesired.
[It would do Benedict no good to be dragged any further through his own misdeeds, as far as Gabranth is concerned.] The matter of his indemnity is seen to. His apologies were sincere.
Had I suspected anything less, I would not be standing here before you now, suing for good faith in his name.
All the more reason to plea grace if so, for I am a man of difficult temperament, and I suffered no injury beyond pride.
[This, perhaps predictably, is said objectively. He's lived too long in his role as Judge, jury, executioner, and so on and so forth to let bias sink its claws into his verdicts unless they relate to his brother which right now they do not, though what chases it is far, far milder in tone:]
The most likely punishment, given what you've said, is scrubbing our facilities. [ Bathroom facilities, obviously, given the way he says that word. ] A bit of grime under his nails may make him keep a rather more civilized hand.
Page 53 of 170