with a reverence unimpaired

Embarrassment flushes across her cheeks, and the girl nods her assent. "I suppose books cannot hold everything," she admits, a fairly new idea that the young librarian is just now coming to terms with. Still, to see him already aging tugs at her empathy, makes her yearn for some solution to a problem far older and larger than she. "There are many others in the Hollowed Grounds, though, and I am sure they would help." She extends a hand to take his again, an ardent smile on her earnest face. Then Delah breaks through the tranquility, and Amalia turns in her seat, her brow knitting back into a defensive frown. Amalia thinks of the tulmhainar's words, that the fae are a bloody and brutal people: certainly she can see that clearly in every inch of the savage fae. "I can see why you love it," is all she says, unaware of how little she can possibly understand but desperately trying, at least. Amalia Her eyes, they know too much. She'll treat you like somebody but you just can't touch.