“I am hoping for far more than just the one, but in the interest of fairness, I will temper my expectations and focus on the one before us,” he responds with a mirthful quirk to his smile, a gentle tease that surfaces only on rare occasions, in the most trusted of company. Many in Viscinct know him to be a serious man, with most more likely to speak of his artistic sensibilities than they are his sense of humor, but even with all that has transpired between them, he finds it easier to be relaxed in Kisara’s presence, to adopt a playfulness that he never would have dared when he was still Lord and felt confined by his role.

“I look forward to it,” he goes on, “But I have long looked forward to the enjoyment of your company. There is no need to worry over what to say— I only hope you will forgive me this dreadful fumble. It would be a shame if it were to spoil our tea— as we both have our share of responsibilities, I feel we are at least due that bit of respite before we return to them.”

He gestures broadly at the table between them with an open palm.

“That said, I am glad to have made a momentary fool of myself if it meant getting such things out in the open. I hope it will give you something to laugh about, as well as consider?”

Matter-of-factly asking someone to marry you over tea was, he realizes in retrospect, rather comical from a certain angle.