Silver charms. Not as much as Max, but they both have a way with words, and it's an unwritten rule that they behave. Silver has no interest in being rowdy just because he can, and Max has an agenda. He makes conversation, hates it, and somewhere along the line puts a hand on Benedict's knee to weigh himself through the absolute tedium. Mostly, he feels strange jealousy about it all.

He's thankful for the drinks afterward, although the glasses are far too small. He winds up drinking his in nearly one go and refuses to be repentant about it, though his need to say fuck it and leave is gone the moment the brothers sing. It's beautiful--so much so that Silver is genuinely taken aback. He finds himself smiling genuinely, and even Max is sincere when she compliments them.

It's at the need for air that Silver rises as well, reaching for his crutch. "I shall accompany you," he says simply. "Please--Max, I know you have some endeavors you were meaning to ask the Bridgerton family."

Max nods, and Silver follows the other, keeping at a surprisingy steady space. He speaks only when they're alone. "You want for nothing," he says at last, and there's the barest trace of bitterness in his voice. "And a beautiful singing voice? I should be lucky to know you."