Mab pressed her lips together in a thin line, keeping the opinion that the Roses were all alike to herself. Surely, there had to be exceptions to the rule - at least she hoped so, for Rook's sake. "You sure know how to pick 'em," she murmured, bumping her head up against his gently as they leaned together.
She huffed a soft laugh and put her arms around him again to squeeze Rook tight, "If wishes were horses, my love. Fate or the gods or whatever had far different plans for us." But she wouldn't really be able to advise him whether or not he should pursue the Toreador. This would have to be a decision all on his own.
Tilting her head slightly, she considered the treasures before them. "Then perhaps... You should pick out something more personal rather than one of your many collected baubles. Something from the heart - and then you can keep your treasures."