The lobby seemed too full of people, when Caleb emerged from what had happened, and all he really wanted was to track down one or two, to find a quiet order and see what could be done about this. He had left that room with the very really intention of looking for solace.

When it found him, Essek's face composed but clearly concerned, Caleb wanted nothing more than to sink, ashamed, into the flagging beneath their feet.

He lowered his head, like that would conceal the blood moving sluggishly from the cut on his cheek, and slowly shook his head. This was how he noticed the gloves that Essek was holding, clutched against the handle of the parasol that Jester had drawn for him.

"Ah, no," he said, clearing his throat slightly. "It isn't deep. Just--head wounds. They have a lot of blood. I just need a moment. Are you coming or going?"