[ Her eyebrow arches up at him, a glint of daring mischevious in her gaze before shes bites it back. ]

Oh, so you do admit that this isn't a tiny thing and that you need it now?

[ She tucks herself into his chest, head laying lightly against his chest. There's something wistfully playful in her voice as she recalls the slight, sweet redhead and her sweet singing. ]

I don't know about that — have you seen Annette's face? She's so cute.

[ There's a part of her that feels some sense of relief when he doesn't react to her slip up. Unfortunately, it has the undesired effect of tripping her up. The mention of Annette and Mercy makes her reminisce about the times before the war, about the allusions Claude had made to their fates, and then by extension Sylvain's.

She had come so dangerously close to losing him here too. Her chest tightens and she reaches for one of his hands. ]

So on a scale of Annie, Mercy and me, who's going to be the most difficult to say no to?