[ even if wriothesley was told, she knows it's not the same for him. given the state of affairs from his perspective as he has last remembered it, this was something he would need to reconcile on his own. it wouldn't matter if she tried to reassure him, it wouldn't be same as him seeing and experiencing it himself. much like herself, he isn't someone who does well with idle hands for long; she wonders, at times, how he still manages to hold on to himself in a place so determined to let go of their inhibitions to the point of forgetting who they are. ]

Did you think me to be so shallow? [ her tone is dry, but the undercurrent of amusement remains, sweetened by the nectar of the fruit that lingers on her tongue. ] Most of the men here leave much to be desired.

[ but she considers his words, and the ache of loneliness beneath; the smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. she turns towards him, leaning in to meet his gaze. ]

... In the time we've known each other, I've always answered your call. [ and perhaps, in the end, it's silly to promise this. but she has always kept her word to him; to those she has come to care for. ] And I will continue to do so.