All told, she prefers her men too caught in the bliss of having her in their rooms at all to still consider decency, landladies, wives, and God himself as factors in what is ultimately her equation. That he still thinks to ask – nay, order – silence of her seems to earnestly take her aback, and there is a flash of displeasure marring her otherwise so beautiful features. Even in life, she has not been a creature who oft heard the word 'no', or learned to hear it with any manner of grace and respect at all.

"I do seek to be invited again in the future, and so I shall keep your gentile request in mind." Still, he took her arm, and still, his cheeks are flush as the first red of morning, which seems to mellow the waves of her agitation just a tad. "Do you ever honour her wishes? In life, I would have given much to rent rooms of my own, far from prying eyes, to invite whoever I so please."

It's a teasing, lowly jest so obvious she cannot hold it back. "And whoever so pleases me."