Oddly closemouthed for Francis. He’s one to explain, or reassure, or complain the way he had when the injury had been nearer, and the inescapable pain of it had been worse. Raju doesn’t hide the intent focus of his stare; asking about Raju’s looking would mean admitting there might be something there to look for, so if Francis is hiding pain from Raju now, he won’t.

“Why don’t we switch places?” Raju suggests, tilting his head toward the pan, it and the fireplace further away from Francis now than the herbs he’s moving to, nearer and with a place to sit in front of them. “If this sticks to the pan this time we’ve fewer herbs left to cover up the burnt taste, and you’re better with the pan than me.”

Raju’s expression aside, it has the advantage of being true. It’s a lower standard Francis has put up with for his meals sometimes, since he’s been hurt, since Raju won’t waste good food practicing and experimenting in the way a part of him wants to until he’s sure he can manage the tools consistently and well. So who would protest, unless he wants to sit down to spare himself? It’s not something Raju takes any satisfaction in, not least because it might worsen pain that needs easing. But this is Francis, and so Raju needs to be sure.