@serpentidol approached.
[♚] Ah, no, this one was far too pretty to be anything close to monstrous -- powerful, perhaps, and most certainly noble...but delicate in the way flowers often are.
Still, she was most certainly just another mark of how ill-fitting he was, and how he managed to be absolutely not right -- a physical symbol of his own uselessness. Olivier knew that he, of all people, did not deserve to be a Master (did not deserve to fight in a war that meant far too much).
And so, he kept from making eye contact, tried not to address the youth he was now more or less bound to: it was always his luck to land in this sort of scenario. [♚]
“I’m -- sorry. I’m hardly a Master that you are fit to be stuck with... I’m hardly worth much at all, in fact.”
