Peaceful silence had settled in, slow. Which makes her interruption all the more jarring. Darras permits the shoulder squeeze, makes unconscious room for the cheek kiss, just as it all begins to dawn on him.

"What?" The thickness in his voice this time is more from disuse. He swallows, quickly. "What d'you m-- Go where? Where is there t' be going right now, with--"

He doesn't even mean it selfishly. Or, well. It's selfish in that he is thinking of Yseult when he says it. What's best for her, which ought to be anything but wading through the mass of spirits crowding the halls. But of course that's where she'd be going. He tries to catch at her hand anyways. Not to hold her to the room, but to have her hand in his a moment longer. The closest they've been since returning from Ghislain, and it's over before he'd known to appreciate it properly.