He gives a chiding little tsk, even while laughter dances in golden eyes. "You think so little of me, then, to assume I couldn't make your heart race without a mask to hide behind? I assure you, that is not the case at all."

It's easier for him to bend down to whisper, considering his height. He takes advantage of it now, bending his head and angling it in such a way that his lips brush against the curve of their ear. "And I'm pretty sure that would require for me to have seen you in nothing before, if I were to recognize you now. Are you saying that is the case?"

He knows it's not. Sylvain knows exactly who he's gotten into bed with here in this world, and he has their bodies, their movements, intimately memorized. Had they been someone he'd indulged with before, he'd know exactly who they were right now, mask or not.