In one fashion, none of that helped at all. It felt almost dismissive. Belittling. But at the same time Ghastly wasn't saying that he had no right to his feelings, or even anything other than Solomon wasn't any different to anyone else. And that was oddly calming, because at least that made one thing in which he wasn't alone. Not that it helped, because there wasn't exactly an answer in it except that everyone was stumbling around in the dark.

Ghastly was wrong about God, though. Solomon had seen God on a level he wasn't sure even China had touched, and God had never faltered or shown evidence that He didn't know His paths. He just ... knew things. And didn't expect people to follow Him blindly.

At the tailor's final words, though, Solomon managed another scattered laugh, quiet though it was, as he lifted his head and rested it back against the wall. "Can you really imagine me doing any of those things? I'm not exactly a people-person, and I'm more than a little limited."

If life really was about other people, he'd screwed up that part. He didn't exactly have much to offer others, especially with his eyesight gone. It didn't matter how much he managed to get done in the office; he still needed someone hanging over his shoulder every moment of the day just to get it done.

"Skulduggery may have managed to draw people to him to be his," he said quietly. "I have no such qualities to offer in return. To anyone."