[ Maia picks at a straying thread on the cuff of his sleeve; the shirt he is wearing has long sleeves, despite the weather, because he still feels self-conscious baring his scarred arm in public. In his head, he can hear how Setheris would snarl if he could see Maia fiddling so, that he ought to sit with his hands folded and still, like someone civilized, and not a witless hobgoblin. But Setheris is not here, so what the hell. ]

It is not a matter of whether we wish it. That is what we are trying to tell you. It is your wishes that matter in this.

[ He makes himself look up, then, meeting Csevet's eyes with his, wanting to make sure he is listening and taking Maia's words seriously. ]

We are not your emperor, here. There is no need for you to defer to us. I- I would not have it so. It is so different here. We have found... a measure of freedom. We wish for you to enjoy the same.

[ Maia sucks in a slightly shaky breath, but he keeps his shoulders square, his ears up. There's a slight tremor in his voice, but it is conviction, just as much as it is nervousness. He has to say this. He has to be sure that Csevet understands. It is not an offer he could ever make, at court. But this is not court. And Csevet deserves better than to be saddled with him, without even considering things could be different. ]

Even if- even if the way you choose to use that freedom is to never once see us again until the day we are called to return home. I... [ The pause stretches longer than Maia means it to, but finally he manages: ] ...cannot deny I would miss thee, but you must not let that stop you. We swear we would hold no grudges, should you decide thus. We will offer no recriminations and we will do our utmost to respect your wishes.