[Rosalind isn't entirely certain where such wariness comes from, when Elizabeth turns her eyes from Robert to her. Of all of her available choices for a parental figure here, Robert may well be her best option, sad as it is to say (and sad not because she thinks so little of her brother, but because they are the same person and thus she knows their shared and contrasted faults in such merciless detail). And the foray into sentimentalism is hardly appalling. They are entirely different creatures, and what is so treacherous to Rosalind is a proven and enduring source of power for Elizabeth.

No, if anything it is intriguing, to see what she thinks of the both of them.

She meets Robert's look with a lift of her eyebrows, innocuous and enigmatic calm to the faint cheek of his admission, but a mirror in its own way. She finds herself in much the same place, save that where Robert seems to wish to protect, she is content to observe.]

The intention of the thing is valid, however poorly the particulars adapt to a new framework. [The words come out more contemplatively than in her head, deliberately. It is a matter she speaks with little to no authority on, but general principles seem applicable, and Robert provides a reasonable starting framework.] If one must have a companion, it only follows one should find one that betters oneself.