Phillip frowns, though it’s one of puzzlement more than anything else, a hand still stroking the other’s hair. He has always assumed he was the problem, needed to prove that he wouldn’t just turn tail and plot a Calamity. But...

“I don’t understand,” he finally says, because he doesn’t and turning it around in his head isn’t helping, “If I don’t need to say anything, then... what is the problem?” What else is holding this back?