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From Degas' point of view, Náin's face was unreadable, emotionwise. Had he been able to peer into the Dwarf's head, he would have seen that the tense look on Náin's face sprang from having bitten his tongue- quite literally.
"It grieves me to learn I caused your sister tears," said Náin, completely honestly. "And it is my intention and desire to seek both her forgiveness, and that of the Lord Eodwine- into whose chambers I barged. But they are in council and you, Lord Degas, are not."
"Saeryn was not in council when you saw her earlier," Degas could not refrain from mentioning. "She told me you sought me."
"My reasons are my own," said Náin, jaw set slightly askew and tense. "Though it is no business of yours, the simple matter of it is that I wished to embarrass neither myself nor your sister by speaking in front of that newcomer."
His fists clenched, and his temper set somewhat on edge, Náin made to move away.
"I have asked your forgiveness, and would have it," he said to Degas, "but my part in amending the matter is done, and I would move on to amending it with others. Have I your pardon, or no?"
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