From the corner of his eye, Jackson catches sight of the peering servant. He looks at them, waving the servant off. "All's well. Just got a little excited."

He turns back to Norrell.

"So midnight's makin' deals with the Fae. Vampires already hate us, and werewolves never been too keen about us either." Jackson lets out a half-sigh, half-chuckle, before shaking his head. "Christ. We should take a note from Midnight, and not make enemies out of everyone. Fae, included."

Or maybe Jackson should put his chips elsewhere. Daybreak seemed like the safe bet when he first came to London. The white bread of witch covens. It'd been all copacetic when he was sitting pretty on the periphery of things, but now that he's been called upon, personally, he'll have to re-evaluate his choices.

For now, he's weighing the benefits of assisting Norrell.