Her earnest nervousness does manage to diffuse his own, his timid smile giving way to something fuller, more genuine; it crosses his face broadly, his grin stretched across him at her suggestion.

"Now there's a suggestion. I haven't unlimited space in my own garden, but I know a few people with their own. Perhaps they can help with this, each caring for a different type of seed. It would help keep the groups isolated, controlled as opposed to the rampant growth beyond the city's borders. Perhaps we can then figure out the exact rate of growth, maybe even alchemical properties. Testing what is and isn't edible would be important to determining if it should be grown in the orchard. Wouldn't want one plant to overtake the others -- or worse, poison them."

He may have only been tangentially aware of the problems the orchard dealt with when it came to all those boats on the islands, but it doesn't take a genius to know that ruining the orchard would be bad.