Her answering smile wavers, wobbly in spite of Loxley's acquiescence. Or maybe because of it, the way he gives her this care without any hesitation.

"Or I should take them off in the hall," she answers, lifting one hand to his shoulder. Balancing there, she can hook fingers into the ties of her cloak, shrug off the scarves to puddle in a heap on the floor. "To save us time."

Though that seems like asking to lose a pair of boots, but that's not a concern for this exact moment.