She was quiet for the most part after much and more of her inquiries found their answers. She even merely froze at his slight touch, trying to remove the remnants of her treat afterwards without much success. It was benignly incredulous, much more of the icing being smeared upon her countenance than taken away entirely. Though, after her initial reaction, he would not offer to touch her once again.

However, at his own askance towards her curiosity, she would mimic the stillness prior. Her features smoothed over into a mask of blithe emptiness. “Are you not friends?" No. The word was quick to find his cerebrum, and was a very evident fact in most of their briefings. Many of those that were previously often around them knew that he had barely any contact with any who sat upon the queen's counsel, though he had to remind himself that Avarice was not privy to these happenings. "Osmanthus seemed so fond of them..” At that, he would snort slightly, the sound rather unbecoming of his normal demeanor. "If every person that Osmanthus was fond of was my 'mate', I would have a sizeable harem." Despite himself, perhaps his tone was much sharper than he had initially intended. A frown curved the edges of his lips, silver gaze resting solely upon her delicate features as he came to a complete stop.

"I am merely forced to cooperate with Mithras, atimes, because my work demands it." He would raise a hand in dismissal, a sigh leaving him as he grimaced faintly once more at the grievous insult. How did he properly put into words his specific disdain for the captain? Maybe that he would rather rest on a bed of nails and await the dawn to greet him? An iron maiden's embrace of silver and vervain? "And simply put, Os doesn't know a stranger."

 
“Oh,” he would allow his stare to slip to her at the intonation. His jaw set for a moment, cold and rigid, though it relented just as quickly. He certainly had his reservations towards the naval captain, but in the end, he supposed it was no reason to take such bitterness out on her. “My apologies, I did not mean-- ” He would shake his head, "No, you've done nothing wrong." He imposed, momentarily unaware of the mare's antics. "I'm simply unaccustomed to such questions." It was a poor explanation, but an entirely honest one.

He maintained his distance from most, only dealing with social gatherings when it was deemed necessary by the crown to further her insidious regime. There were very rarely talks of engagements or otherwise at such a round table, the seldom breeched by those of the coven far closer to the Red Queen in means of true familial bonds. Yes, he believed the last announcement that he could recall being in attendance to was that of a 'sister' to the woman. One varnished with niceties and a surplus of gifts, though both of the dames were - in his opinion - quite spoiled, not knowing what the word 'no' meant in any means. “Envy, what—?” Shaking his head, it was then he noted the cleaning that Envy had taken upon herself.

Despite himself, a slight chuckle left him and he would again pat the swan-like curve of the Fresian's neck. “Oh, I am quite cumbersome,” she almost seemed exasperated by her own discovery. “I had frosting all over my face and you merely tried to help,” she looked to him while the horse nearly wagged her tail like a faithful dog. The stained handkerchief held lightly in her grasp covered in a mixture of saliva and chocolate. Another laugh at the incredulousness of it all. Truly, he never knew what to expect from the eccentric pair. “I will clean this myself and return it.” "Please, keep it." Diminished, boyish grin would be given to the equine, "I don't think you'll ever know when you need it again."

 
She was quiet for a long moment, and he could nearly feel the heat of her flush radiating from her porcelain skin. He hadn't meant to embarrass the young lady, his apology seeming to have done so as he tried to correct the sharpness of his tongue. His lips pressed into a flat line, a slight rumble building within his chest in contemplation of the matter. He supposed that, perhaps for she and those she was around often, that was a topic normally broached. He couldn't recall many times at all in which his marital status had been approached by another. He was betrothed, at one point, an arrangement made by his father and the family of the young woman he was supposed to wed. If he had ever met her before, he was uncertain, there were many faces that came and went at his home when he was away. To him, the news stirred nothing. He had always assumed as much, though this happening was not nearly as important as who his brother would come to marry. The woman would have to meet several conditions as she would come to be Duchess. He supposed his bride was to be someone well off, a noble's daughter as many would not have the funds for a dowry owed to the Duke. Viktor had assured him she was a lovely young maiden, and that he was certain they would get along enough. His sister also claimed she'd also had her over for tea on multiple occasions as if the occurrence was that he was going into a fight blind. One that never came in the end.

“I suppose that would be fair.” she would murmur alas, before continuing slowly, contemplatively. “I am clearly unaccustomed to asking such questions, mm… small talk, I think.” He would release a long breath, once again shaking his crown. "As am I, obviously." He tried to dismiss lightly, "I often try to avoid it as much as possible. I apologize I'm not one much for conversation." A hand would raise, cupping his chin slightly. What would be an appropriate topic to steer towards? Perhaps an answer to her previous inquiry without the venom, he supposed. "To answer, though, I was once expected to be married in an arrangement, though the ceremony never took place. So I've never had a spouse." He frowned, slightly, allowing his hand to fall away, readjusting both of his sleeves in the process.

His stare would avert from her wide eyes, however, his mirth cut sharply off as she stared up at him. Perhaps if he were mortal a hint of rose would color his cheeks, caught off guard by the candid expression she wore. As it was no such color sprung forth, his heart failed to skip that beat and silver focus would find the skyline, stealing the way the sun had settled beyond the mountains in finality. The roads were becoming far more empty and those few faces that were lingering had dwindled to nearly nothing. “Th-… thank you,” he would spare her a glance. “I wish to give you a gift.” She looked all too serious about the matter, plush lips pressed firmly together. Her fingers wove through the wind touched curls of her pallid hair. “You have treated me to a remarkable tea and a delicious sweet and have now given me your handkerchief .…I will think of something.” She vowed as her brow crinkled. "No need to feel so inclined." He offered, a slight sense of amusement coiled within his tone. "I believe time is one of the most important things you have, and you've spared it not just on one occasion for me." He gave a slight nod, palm once again finding his chin. "That is enough for me."

 
“I think you are quite befitting as you are, Theodred, sir.” He would cast his stare to her, her expression giving nothing away despite her words. Though he had somewhat become accustomed to her mannerisms in their short time together. Despite what she said, he was certain there was naught more beyond that. As it was, he supposed it would be more trouble than it was worth on her account should he be more social. Though mayhaps she would enjoy having someone filling the silence that often times yawned between them. Though to say it was an uncomfortable happening would be a lie, as he found the quiet with her a good companion. He often felt more pressed to speak when in the presence of others, or stubbornly biting his tongue depending on those around him and the context of their gathering. When in counsel, he would rush, eager to get his part over with so that he could recline in idle repose faster. "A relief that you think so."

The words would depart him on a slight murmur, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves which had rolled up faintly as he stroked the Friesian mare's neck. The edges of his lips would draw down at the brief glimpse of his disfigured forearm before it was concealed once again. As he did so, his eyes would wander sharply to the countenance of a passing figure, one paying far too much attention to them than he cared for. Even more guiltily, the man's beady eyes would leap away from them as he picked up his pace. The spy, perhaps? One sent by the Duke to keep his movements well under wraps? Or was that simply too much credit for a lowly mongrel searching for his dinner? Despite the aversion of the other, cold silver did not depart the retreating line of his back. Certainly an overly suspicious reaction for merely meeting the stare of someone he was certain he had no bad ties with. It was a loose end he would be forced to follow up with ere he could begin his planned activities for the night.

“I do not think there is anything wrong with that,” her words would reluctantly draw the main of his attention back to her, though he was keen to find which direction the man had swiftly departed in before he would give her the whole of it once again. "I have no qualms with it." He would acknowledge. The course meant as little to him now as it did back at that time as well. While he would have certainly rather have been married off to the outcome for his home, the recollection now caused him no anguish nor any apprehension. While he supposed he would be considered as a part of nobility with the new title placed upon his head as well as the prestigious family he had been included in, thus far his marital status had never been issued any review. "I am rather indifferent to the affair as a whole. I knew at the time it would be expected of me."

Then there was the quiet again, that hushed lull of peace that unfurled like lazy petals. The shroud began to clear and dissipate, allowing the thin tendrils of the dying light to attempt to reach across a land it was now denied. It did not manage to rake its way beyond the towering aegis of the looming mountains she called home, but it clung almost desperately to the horizon like a last word someone wished they had spoken. It wasn't long before the rickety wooden sign marking the pathways at the edge of town was at his back. The words were faded and weathered, wholly missing in some spots as they told the direction paths would take. Left, deeper into the territories of the night stalkers, Shanton bleak upon the plank's face, while the right stretched out towards Dunmeath, though the calling was almost wholly scratched out in malice. “Thank you,” she smiled, though it was faint it was a very rare occurrence to grace her façade. He would return it faintly. “It would be a lie to say I do not enjoy your company, though fleeting I think.” He would offer her a slight bow. "And I yours, though I'm afraid I am quite busy lately." A fact that would only become more so if everything worked out as he hoped it would.

As the mare pressed forward, he would offer a faint aid as she sought to lift herself into the saddle. “I suppose I must return home, now.” He would nod, giving the steed another soft brush of his gloved fingers upon her sleek coat. A low rumble would leave him before he would raise his stare up to the rider. "Please, do be careful going home. I'm afraid I've kept you much later than I intended."