Since when does Xellos have a tic? Miquel cocks his head and marvels at the rapidfire series of little twitches Xellos seems to go through before he addresses him again.
"Practice? I will try, Ser Xellos. And I hope, since it'S in his best interest, His Excellency will let me."
Cesare still looks at bit glassy - mourning, possibly, the loss of a sunny afternoon he vaguely remembers in idealised terms. "Let... what?" he mumbles, tongue thick. He looks happy, and the tiniest bit post-coital, so he never notices Miquel getting up.
"Around the room?" Miquel asks. "Is that safe now? I mean, leaving your circle?"