She knows he must be cold without his cloak. He’s given all of his warm outerwear to Sabine, charming the length so it’d fit her, and leaving him only in the black shirt and trousers underneath. Without all of his layers, he looks incredibly young—boyish even. If she tries really hard, she can imagine him too. Someone with no shared history as her, removed from the circumstances that have brought him to this point. He'd have incredibly vain concerns, of course, but they would have nothing to do with power or survival—though she does not know what they may be.