Rosmerta was torn, really torn. On the one hand, taking up residence in the home he kept for “his” queens would mean that she was accepting this situation, and she didn't want to do that. She didn't want to. But on the other hand, it would mean a year to live, pretty much, on her own from the sound of it. And that was terribly appealing. Though his final words made her roll her eyes.
“I don't want a suitor, that's what my parents want for me.” Her mouth snapped shut after that outburst, because she really didn't want to delve into it. Especially now that they were starting to get along. He was odd, very odd, but he seemed nice enough. And in her position, it was better to get along with him she supposed. With what was to come later, it would behoove her to hold her tongue.
“Thank you,” she said, then clarified. “For being willing to do the figurative ritual rather than the literal. I'm sure I'll be in a better mood once I've eaten too. You've been... very patient. I appreciate it. And the offer of the home. Is it near farmland? Because I do have duties to perform too. You may look after the wild things, but there are other animals get my attention.”
If she was feeling fair, she might be willing to admit that they would probably work well together given their patronages. But she was still just a smidge sulky. Just a smidge.