Oh, what a good boy he was. Yes, generally being caught singing and dancing while doing one's chores was a moment of embarrassment but Mab wasn't unhappy with him. As long as he was getting his shit done, he could do it however he wanted. "Or perhaps you've lost track of time," she countered with amusement clear in her tone. She lifted a hand to run her fingers through his hair, trailing fingernails down the back of his neck.
"Take a break, my darling. I want to talk to you for a moment," she slipped away and settled on the stool behind the main counter. Adjusting her skirt, she crossed her legs daintily and lay her hands on her lap. It was the perfect pose and she was, for the moment, Queen of the Shop at the very least. "Have a seat. And don't worry, ye're no' in trouble," she wanted to preface this conversation with that because she didn't want him to worry. But this was something important-ish. He'd been in service for 13-years now and yet Tristian's comments were sitting poorly with her.