[ There's no need for her to be sorry; he's less fazed by it than maybe he should be. She reminds him of Mid, in this moment, rapid fire questions and conclusions at the speed of thought, the same sort his all but adopted sister liked to throw around when she was in the midst of designing. He waits, patiently, for her to finish, and then answers each one by one, crossing his arms, fond of this woman in front of him. ]

I'm not familiar with many names of stones, so something blue. And diamonds, like ice. I don't know what a carat is. I don't know her ring size—[ and at this he does look guilty ] I've never thought to ask. Something like this has never really been a priority until now. If you don't think it would be too suspicious for you to ask...