"Aye, well...suppose it'd not hurt to practise my reading," he admits. It'd give him something to do other than figuratively climb the walls, anyway, but if he's going to do that, he does have some standards. "But the more interesting ones, please."

The ones from the merchant stalls sound pretty good to him - and if some racier stories make their way in, he's not going to complain. There's another reason for wanting those, as well, and he gives her a shrug.

"Like as not I'd fall asleep trying to read those Chantry-approved ones. And aye, I know everyone says you're supposed to rest but I'd not want to get you in trouble when I wind up dropping the books on the floor."

Or flinging them across the room in frustration, because that could be a thing too, and the look he sends her says as much even if he doesn't comment on it out loud. But then his expression smooths back out.

"You'd be willing to do that, though?"