[he's going to graciously ignore that she mistook him for someone else-- he imagines that she's embarrassed enough as it is.

while he wouldn't know what that language is called in her world, shalem knows it as some dialect of victorian, and... well, he's not entirely versed in it. he only knows the main victorian language.]

I'm afraid I haven't any interest turning these into tea, no matter how much I like drinking.

[he brushes a finger over the flowers.]

I dried them myself for a very specific reason.