"Thank you," he says, looking more modest than he usually does when someone pays him a compliment. But then again, remarks on his moral fibre is somewhat different. Especially since that the months before Baedal and his time living in the city have begun to replace Charles' certainty with the sinking sense that his efforts will never quite be enough.

"I promise not to scold, I--" And there's a strange moment where he glances off to another direction, unblinking, but breaks out of it with a smile, before turning back to Odessa. "Sorry, I picked up on someone I know nearby. Yes, I'll join you. That way we can meet him outside." And, with a look of his own that borders on conspiratorial, "He's like us."