[She leans back in surprise, wobbling slightly as she fixes him with a wide-eyed stare at his sudden outburst. And then, she laughs. Not at him. It's a surprisingly warm laugh given the situation—one of familiarity, as she's struck with nostalgia.]

Is that not simply the way of the apprentice? I remember my guildmasters having me do similar tasks. Once, they sent me out on their behalf to weep and beg the forgiveness of merchants—for drinking the merchants' wares without payment, of course.