“Are you not a researcher?”
If Vidvan had an extra minute every time he had heard Iqbal say that to him, he could have gotten more done. “How so?” he asked, glancing up. It took his eyes a moment to return to focus as he returned them to his papers.
That got Vidvan’s attention again. He looked around for the mess. Then frowned. “It is all where I know how to find it!”
“Research is not an independent project here,” Iqbal reminded him. “You may be the Master’s favourite, but you have to work with the rest of us. Please, take a moment and organize this mess into something people could work in!”
It was not a mess, not really. Vidvan felt his temper flare, though he did his best to hold it back. He had done nothing but been as accommodating to the others as possible since his addition to the team. Honestly, nothing mad Iqbal happy.
But Vidvan wasn’t here to make Iqbal happy. He was here to repay the Master for all of the opportunities he had been given.
Which meant he may or may not have said something worth repeating. When Iqbal was far enough away, of course. Vidvan was getting along, after all. He only wished he had said it louder.