The next week was full of Sam nagging him about how he needed to take better care of himself for not only Cass' sake, but Sam's and the people who cared about him too. That meant that Cass spent a lot of time out in the gardens below his room with Sam's hawk-like supervision, which wasn't a bad thing, but it also meant that when he wanted to work, it was painful and slow. Cass was getting through paper after paper so slowly he thought he was going to die from lack of speed.
He couldn't ask Sam for help, since he was able to read quite well and while he did trust the other man, he didn't want him to know the plans he was formulating. For his own safety. So he had Byron by his side. He helped him flip papers, looming over his shoulder while, at a smaller desk brought in nearby, the man was working on his letters.
It was endearing to say the least, but also unnerving. Cass was really hoping that this wasn't something that happened every time going forward. That would be awful.
