"I imagine anyone would feel that way, left lost like that. Sounds dreadful and bewildering. By the sounds of it you've made the best of it you could. You have my..." sympathies, condolences, something? Something. Anything. Lemm draws a blank. "Sounds horrid." Clumsily said. That's alright, if he gets his point across.

Lemm is struck once more with the feeling of... responsibility, he supposes it must be. The Knight is yet again trusting him with knowing these things - their feelings, that's the thing. And he is registering now that what he mistook for a burst of scholarly curiosity a little while ago is far more personal: he just plainly wants the Knight to tell him, he wants to know, wants them to be comfortable in knowing he knows. This feeling comes from a different place than his work, now. Dimly he wonders how long this has been the case. A while, by how deeply it seems to have sunk in when he wasn't looking.

"Heard of them," he nods. "Or I've heard them described. Never been one for... big celebrations, that's the kind of place you'd see them, isn't it? No. I hear they're bright, and loud. Why are we talking about fireworks?"