Monday scowls. He's pacing his office again, a practice that he generally hates. It implies that there is some pressing matter that must be attended to but is being avoided, and also that no resolution for said matter is readily forthcoming. Monday prefers things executed with swiftness and efficiency; this anxious uncertainty is unwelcome.
It would be easier if Monday had to give his Key back to the Architect. She was unyielding and expected unquestioning obedience from Her creations. There was no room for indecision, because the decision was already made for him; for good or for ill, it was out of his hands. Monday needs only look to the Far Reaches to see the inimical effects of disobeying the Architect (or Her Will, in this case).
Effects that Arthur is attempting to combat, another part of Monday adds. Tuesday has been restored; production will recommence, although it will likely take years before everything is fixed.
But the operation of the Lower House continues unimpeded. Monday's administration is not so flawed as Tuesday's. There is no reason for Monday to be 'restored'. Perhaps certain other Trustees might benefit from such a process, but Monday has no need of such things.
A knock interrupts his thoughts. It comes from the door to the Seven Dials. A brief frown passes across his face, but he goes to answer it nonetheless.
Arthur is standing on the other side, Phineas conspicuously absent.
Now would be the opportune moment to tell Arthur that he has no intention of being healed. But Monday does not intend to tell Arthur that. He has his dignity.
"I do not wish to be 'healed' as you did with Tuesday," Monday blurts out as soon as Arthur closes the door behind himself. He is so appalled at what he has just admitted that all he can do is stare at Arthur as the boy frowns.
"I really did upset you when I healed Tuesday, didn't I?" Arthur muses.
Monday grits his teeth. "With good reason," he says, regaining his composure. "Neither you nor Sunday made any mention of it! At any rate, there is no need for me to be healed."
Arthur looks at him, and for a moment Monday forgets that he is facing a mere child. There is something sharp and calculating in Arthur's gaze.
"It was a spur of the moment decision," Arthur says after an endless moment, blinking away that intense focus. Monday belatedly realizes that he is holding his breath and exhales. "Why would you think I would want to heal you? You just said there's nothing wrong with you," Arthur adds.
"That-" Monday stops, gritting his teeth once more. No matter what Arthur suggests, there is nothing wrong with him. "Then we are agreed. I will hand over the First Key and you will appoint me Regent afterward. There is no need for any... healing."
Arthur tilts his head, that sharp expression reappearing. "On one condition."
Monday narrows his eyes. "Which is?"
"I want you to fix my asthma."
