"I cannot fault you for being true to your feelings," it was a family trait, be they rational or not. He gave the girl a grin after a few beats, then his face turned serious again when she admitted she was hurt. Of course, she was. They'd both been hurt by his actions and unfortunate circumstances, and he was willing to put that failure on display if it meant they could use it to move on. Only weak men brushed their shortcomings under the rug. Even stronger men tried to right them. And... that was the difficult part for the king, even in less important matters than this. "I am sorry."
His eyes glistened when Rhiannon responded about Fjolnir, and his grin returned. He slapped his knee. "He did fly the coop, didn't he?" he recalled with an amused laugh. She would have to come to learn of the boy's flippant ways, sooner than later, it seemed. "I have no inkling of how he sees you," or how his mind worked, really. That was the issue between the two men, as a matter of fact. Fjolnir was as unpredictable as his father and they had never been in sync in their rather random lines of thinking. "I compel you to take the chance." The merry-dressed monarch suggested. "But I will speak to him on your behalf after you've gone." It would give Freyr a chance to... catch up on his son's recent activities...
"So. A dance?" he half-pled, half-insisted with a jolly nod to his daughter. He stood at once and offered his hand to the pretty redhead who had shared his table.