Old habits definitely died hard, but if stifling his perfectionism was what it took to keep his lady happy—or at least from getting angry—that was what he'd do. Maybe later tonight, when the tide as at its lowest, he'd come out here again and satiate his perfectionism. Just to show himself that he could do it. For now, though, imperfect would do just fine. Or that was what he told himself, anyway.
She poked fun at him and he arched an eyebrow of his own. “Well, if you want the French,” he half-smiled, then said, “Je suis très désolé, cher. I won't do it again. Je vous promets.” He shook his head and shrugged. “Your French isn't terrible, cher. Believe me on that.” They'd been practicing; he encouraged her on occasion to slip into French, and when she did, more often than not she sounded like she'd been speaking it all her life. “Tu es très bien parler français.” He figured that she could pick up enough of the keywords in that sentence to translate it.
Scoffing and placing a hand to his chest like he was offended by her accusation, he sat tall. “I already said that I wouldn't do it again, didn't I?” he pretended to be indignant, but the little grin on his face was probably a dead giveaway that he really wasn't that angry. “I won't.”
In response to her insistence that she didn't hit that hard, Evan scoffed dramatically. “Old me begs to differ.” Not that they'd ever really hit each other, aside from the occasional 'get out of my way' shoves. When she flipped her hair over her shoulders, Evan couldn't help but grin a little bit. She was just... beautiful. “Well, she was a princess anyway,” and he was fairly certain he'd do whatever they said regardless, too, “but I suppose you're right, Queen Leah. What card of fortune have I drawn? Or is it misfortune... I suppose it depends on if this is a good kingdom or a bad one,” he directed his attention to Marigold for this question.
Evan had all he could do to hold back his laughter as Marigold lectured him. It was hard to imagine Dog as anything but a massive, cuddling ball of fluff, but he put his hands up to concede nonetheless. “Promise. No more tickles for now!” he spoke through a smiling mouth.
“Figured you could use a little company over here,” he said, staying seated next to her but giving her a loving smile when he saw hers spread across her face. “I'm so glad you seem to be enjoying yourself. You've earned it.”