He flashed a quick smile her way, pleased to have his game acknowledged, but he spoke somberly—as if he were doing her some kindness in teaching the lesson. “Absolutely not. It will teach you to mind that mouth that gets you into such trouble.”
Her hand was released; his own eased away with no abruptness to this gesture as he took the first step off that travelled path. Here things were still well-kept and orderly, but the backdrop was less so. It was darker as well, which was one more reason that their progress would come more slowly. He was mindful of his wings with the lower branches of the decorative trees, letting them dip carefully and for a rare instance not keeping them arched tightly to his back.
His wings were his only real concern. Fashion here, like in the human world, was kinder to men. The hush of his words did much for the sense of mischief that had been set, though she would need to keep close to hear him. “I cannot imagine this will be restricted for long. Our Queen does not do well with flowers. Perhaps you should mention that to Lord Calmcacil.”
He would not be caught calling him “Poppy”, but he had heard enough. Having connections and staying informed was vital to anyone who meant to make their living at court.