Abel suffered in his small seat on the train.
Tres had been put in charge of their finances for this mission and gotten them seats in the Economy section, which had very little legroom for someone as tall as Abel.
No meals included either, and he had no cash on hand to order something in the dining car even though he was
. Tres probably wouldn’t tolerate him begging for alms, maybe thinking of it as Abel embarrassing Lady Caterina.
Abel’s burning, empty stomach suddenly protested loudly with an embarrassing gurgle. “Sorry, Tres.”
“Father Nightroad, apologies are unnecessary for a bodily function you have no control over. In any case, I am a machine and don’t require them.”
This again. Abel tried a new tack. “I don’t feel right if I don’t show consideration and respect to others, Tres. It’s a kneejerk reaction, just the way I am.
If it makes you feel better--“ before Tres could object to the “feeling” part, Abel changed it to “If it makes it seem more justifiable and easier to bear,
tell yourself I’m doing it out of human weakness and selfishness. Besides, we don’t want to train me out of the social graces I actually have.”
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