It's a cluttered back room, even more than the main one because he cares even less that anyone will see it. There are things piled up - more useful things than relics but still just as dusty and damp and battered - utensils, shelves of jars of things, tools and bags and all the clutter that doesn't go in a collection, a broom, a crowbar. He's careful as he takes long steps over and among it all. His hand comes to hold them a little closer, just in case he trips.

(They're holding onto him like that. He can't do much else than try to be reassuring.)

The Knight is brought right to the back, behind a heavy curtain that doesn't belong there. It sections off an even smaller area where there is a modest grouping of stolen pillows and not much else. His day-to-day life is in his shop. The rest is not much lived in other than to keep things and sleep.

With his foot he carefully nudges aside a glass lumafly bulb and a stone journal. He is going to put them down, and he will, he just-

- He does, quick enough, like he said, he's put them down. The Knight is deposited in a comfortable-enough seat against the pillows, and Lemm draws back, steps back, puts a bit of space between them.

"You'll stay a bit," he tries, unsure. It's not exactly a command, and not exactly a question.