Sweeney's spent the meal in good humor, following her lead on any detail of custom or culinary palate she looks to share. Between courtiers, he takes his turn, clumsily working his way through idle comments in her own tongue. It's not necessary, of course, but it's important to him that she can feel him meeting her halfway. And it seems like his patience is finally pays off.

His focus bounces between her eyes and lips as she speaks, and it takes him a moment longer to process the meaning. Not because of the disjointed way she says it, but because he's still caught up in the sight of her. Sweeney shakes himself back to his senses and nods once in confirmation.

"I will see you soon."

With a quick smile of reassurance, he watches her depart. Finishing his wine, he politely takes his own leave. Perhaps he should have stayed a while longer; once he's been dressed properly, there's little to do but pace in his room until the time comes. The lack of layers feels somehow more exposing than him being naked.

At last, he's shown mercy, and is led down the hall by her attendants. Sweeney can't help but wonder about what the experience might be like. Sure, he has broad swathes, but that hardly details the picture.