Unfortunately, not really. Whatever is happening between Misha - Roland - and Angela stays with those parties. It is not up to her to play god.
"Tell me. Do you often brew in your own troubling thoughts?"
"...Perhaps. I... I think I'm just—..." No... They weren't going to say it, to admit it. Not now, not to her.
Would she give them away... If they were to spill out the truth...?
Misha shook their head, correcting their own sentence by saying, "... I'm just... Overthinking."
"What is troubling you, O hound? Are you still afraid of that lapdog, who became a traitor to his owner?" Those onyx eyes go half lid, slightly displeased. Lamp cutting fire.
"Of course. I have grown tired of being on my floor, drinking tea, reading collected books, and handling the guardians of the forest." Each step matches stair, one by one. Until the pair reaches for the rooftop, clear sky above, shining with stars among its canvas.
"Hmm... Miss Garion I... I really don't think this is necessary..." They said, yet they kept walking, obeying the Patron Librarian's orders.
"Ya' sure 'bout this...?"