When Palamedes has sunk this far into his work, it takes a lot to pull him out. Back in the Library, it wasn’t uncommon for scholars to knock on the Master Warden’s door and get no response; the clever ones who were really desperate for an audience learned to seek out the Warden’s Hand ahead of time, as she was one of the few people who knew how to draw him out of even the deepest research or most complex article. One or two of them have even grumbled about it, whispering that it’s all an act, a way for Palamedes to ignore people he would rather not talk to, and for Camilla to hoard more power than she has a right to. But while Pal can’t claim that he has never ignored a knock at his door because he finds the knock-er particularly obnoxious, his complete obliviousness is rarely staged.
The simple truth is that when Palamedes Sextus is in the zone, he’s in the zone.
Pal has never really understood why, in such circumstances, he notices Cam even when everyone else fades into the background—it’s a puzzle he finds mildly annoying for its lack of logic. The truth is that he just always knows when Cam is nearby, regardless of the circumstances. It’s like the air currents have changed direction, or a dying lightbulb has suddenly decided to return to life; her very Cam-ness changes the atmosphere.
Without looking up from his notebook (it’s half-filled, his hand is starting to cramp, but he doesn’t dare stop working the theorem until he’s satisfied that he’s wrung everything out that he can on his own), he smiles just faintly as the door opens and Camilla steps in. His gaze flickers to the plate and his stomach grumbles; dutifully, he reaches for a cracker and crams it in his mouth.
Once he’s filled up another page, Pal finally stops—at least for now. He flexes his fingers and tips his head back slightly so that he’s looking up at his cavalier.
“Do you remember what was written on the wall of the last laboratory we found at Canaan House?” The two of them have spent so much time pointedly avoiding any in-depth discussion of their last few hours in that dreadful place, but now, strangely, the question comes easily to his lips. Now, it’s important.
no subject
The simple truth is that when Palamedes Sextus is in the zone, he’s in the zone.
Pal has never really understood why, in such circumstances, he notices Cam even when everyone else fades into the background—it’s a puzzle he finds mildly annoying for its lack of logic. The truth is that he just always knows when Cam is nearby, regardless of the circumstances. It’s like the air currents have changed direction, or a dying lightbulb has suddenly decided to return to life; her very Cam-ness changes the atmosphere.
Without looking up from his notebook (it’s half-filled, his hand is starting to cramp, but he doesn’t dare stop working the theorem until he’s satisfied that he’s wrung everything out that he can on his own), he smiles just faintly as the door opens and Camilla steps in. His gaze flickers to the plate and his stomach grumbles; dutifully, he reaches for a cracker and crams it in his mouth.
Once he’s filled up another page, Pal finally stops—at least for now. He flexes his fingers and tips his head back slightly so that he’s looking up at his cavalier.
“Do you remember what was written on the wall of the last laboratory we found at Canaan House?” The two of them have spent so much time pointedly avoiding any in-depth discussion of their last few hours in that dreadful place, but now, strangely, the question comes easily to his lips. Now, it’s important.