Being a full mage and no longer an apprentice has its perks aside from the end of the fear of being made Tranquil, the slightly improved privacy perhaps the most valuable one of them all. Not quite a proper room and of course one without doors, but with the screens hiding his bed from view and the other mages tactfully elsewhere, there are times when Karl can almost pretend, at least for a while. Not being watched as he strokes Anders' hair, not constantly having conversations overheard and having the space to have a proper tumble makes life more bearable. For himself as well as for Anders, who has made it a habit to sneak up whenever he can. Not only to make use of the bed, to be called beautiful and have the scars on his back kissed and caressed, but to be watched over by someone he trusts, someone who he does not have to fear.
Karl is glad to be that person. Glad to be the one to stroke the red gold hair, to offer words of comfort, to listen to rants as well as fears.
Harrowing is one. When Anders' punishments became harsher, Karl had asked him to wait until after his Harrowing to flee again, with the vow that it would be the only time he would intervene with his escapes. They both know why as well as fear it.
"They could make me Tranquil anyhow," Anders whispers against his neck. "Or kill me. I have to get out."
Karl rolls around to face him. "They won't. Not a healer with your talent."
"It's the only worth I have, isn't it? And they won't even let me use it."
This is not a time for kisses, but to press foreheads together. Karl is unable to deny it; it is possible they will not let Anders out of the tower to make use of his skills. There is nothing he can say about that, and so he says something else instead.
"You are worth more to me." Telling him just how much would be much too dangerous, but there are times when he is so very close to doing so despite all dangers.
Anders smile is a sad, fleeting one, quickly swallowed up by the greater despair.
"It's unfair. They could do whatever they wanted, and I would never have justice." When he says could and would, what he mean is they did, and I cannot, because there are some words that are too painful to say out loud. "The Harrowing chamber is so high up, what if they push me out? They could, you know. I bet that is what they do with those who does not pass the test."
Karl knows what happens, but cannot tell him. And as he runs his hand over the scars on Anders' back, he knows that it is as he says; he will never see justice done for this, or for anything else. Not he and not the Tranquil who has been forced to choose a colourless existence over death, not those who have had other things forced on them, and not the ones who had never been offered any choice at all. The mere thought of Anders with the sun brand on his forehead, all the colour and life and dreams ripped from him, makes him ill. He has come to realise that there is no such thing as justice in the Circle, and no way to fight against the horrors they have in its stead.