Malcolm stares, half amused and half...bemused. "Someone has to keep track of all the atrocious frivolities. I suppose she would be better suited to the crimes against fashion. My point is that you're...reading them." It's unusual. He's become so used to the sight of Aleron simply tossing them in the fire, considering when he initially had to fight a pang of jealousy, wishing he'd had communication with his family often enough to simply toss it away.

He's quite grown out of that, thankfully. "I had thought something was the matter to see you so engrossed."