[ Sylvain's mouth was already open, a devious glint in his eye because really, Hilda, you should know better than to set him up like that.

Claude's hand clapping over his mouth gets a muffled grunt of complaint that is fortunately completely indecipherable. But likely would have gotten him smacked by both of them, rather than just Hilda. His gaze narrows in an indignant scowl even if Claude had probably just saved his life. Or at least his dignity. For tonight, at least.

When he doesn't move it away after a few moments, making it obvious he was quite content to keep it there, that devious glint slips back into his gaze as he purposefully licks a stripe up Claude's palm before encircling his wrist and dragging the hand away. ]

I can totally chime in, thanks, if someone would stop smothering me. Maybe he was worried I'd tattle on him over how many times I caught him watching you all night. I don't think it's just the gala that you commanded attention from all night.

[ He sounds very smug about the chance to tattle, actually. ]