The hand in his is grasped tightly. The threads that tie them all seem to always fray in the same ends - a world loved, but torn apart. Even Inigo is not spared of it, and perhaps it explains his reluctance of many things about where he comes from. He can understand the need for that silence most of all. So at the final admittance, Roland's gaze dips low and he sits holding Inigo's hand, bringing his other to rest on top. Hopes Jumblie is doing her fair share of uplifting Inigo where Roland's own paltry light can't reach.

"I...I'm sorry. I didn't..." he trails off, but is also fairly sure Inigo knows Roland had no clue. He apologizes for different reasons, for a different pain. Shared, in ways he can't say right now, but could when the time is right too. But here and now, it is Inigo who matters. Inigo who remembers what he's left behind, or what's left of it. It's too close to home that Roland once again curses the kind of life the universe has plotted out for people as young as him. Roland can bear the weight of his failures. Asked for the job, failed at it too. He can take that. But Inigo, young and budding with life, living in a world he can't return to. For what? Why? Dare he ask now, with his words?

Roland falls reluctant and uncharacteristically reserved. But will take the chance, as it is opened to him. As it is given.

"Does it have to do with the Brand? In your eye?" And there's an apology waiting at the end of that if Inigo falls too far into the pain; not wanting to bring up what hurts, what still hurts and colors Inigo's nightmares.