The relief she feels upon his insistence that she had not forced him into something against her will is short-lived but oh-so-welcome. She would not forgive herself if she had somehow abused her position of power for her own pleasure, amusement at his expense.

He goes on to explain his hesitance. At first, it seems to be his sense of duty, that he should not want her because she is his charge. But when he goes on, when he says what he does, it takes a span of two breaths for her to completely grasp what he means by it.

If the moment were less serious, if his body language read some other way, she might have laughed at what she assumes must be a joke. There is no way a strapping, attractive man like him could be... She looks at him with wide eyes for a moment, her hands still in his and she is quick to turn them, to grab his hands instead, pulling him a little closer to her.

"Is that true, Benedict? That you have never..." He doesn't need to answer, the way he cannot look her square in the eye and the earnest nature of his tone speaks volumes. She steps closer, her words low and kind and truthful. "That matters very little to me and I can teach you."