If it had ever bothered Jarvis to be part of the scenery, as inconsequential to most people as a chair, it never showed on his face. He was too good by now for little tics and quirks to be caught by the casual eye, and too cautious for moments of impulsivity or passion. There had always been some kernel of discretion at the core of him, and decades in service to Tony had only honed it to a fine edge. It was nothing to whip out a napkin or chair, to make sure that there was a glass of water near his master's elbow regardless of whether or not it was desired. That was real service; knowing when to provide even if it had not been asked, and to do it silently, without looking for thanks that wasn't necessary.
There was the smallest tension in his shoulders, if one knew where to look. The tiniest of wrinkles right between his eyes, deepening when hands flecked with juice and stickiness flashed up and down with no regard for the fact that he'd just wiped the table. Jarvis was accustomed to it by now, though. Tony didn't think of these things, and that was fine. He had Jarvis for that. They were a strange compliment that way- not equals, never that, but the loyalty ran deep nonetheless.
Sometimes he wondered if he was supposed to resent Tony for his position, but it had honestly never been a passing thought. Stane was to blame for most things; Stane and the hierarchy he'd cultivated, the society that supported him, and the very thing that Rogers seemed determined to fly in the face of for no other reason than it was the right thing to do.
Jarvis huffed a short noise. It wasn't a laugh, and it definitely held no mirth. But there was something almost amused in the way his mouth curved, thin and barely acknowledging Tony's frustration. "You cannot say that he doesn't care," Jarvis corrected, softly. "I'm certain he does. Everyone does." Most everyone. Some were beyond that emotion. Jarvis had been there once, but he'd regrouped and pushed past numbness into this place, and it was a good thing most of the time. "He cares more about right than he does playing the game. By all appearances, he always has." Finding someone that fixed on morality, which was incredibly inflexible and likely to get him killed anyway, was rare.
It was also the problem, between Tony and Steve. One pretended to have no morals and the other wore them on his sleeve, and they were each determined that the other was in the wrong.