Unconsciously, the Knave squeezed Cyrus's fingers when they brushed his knee and kept a hold of them. Being near the genie was easy - he didn't feel compelled to be all noise and bravado. He could just be and for someone who had spent a good chunk of his life running, this was a bit of a novelty.

"I noticed," he said. "I ain't complaining. I like the way you are."