The laugh had to be stifled, a hand over her mouth and only a snort escaping, though the crinkling of her eyes belied her amusement. She met his curious look with one of her own, intrigued enough to wonder what his little assessment found. Briar knew what she looked like right now. Hair tied back, too many freckles, two more busted knuckles than she should and hands that would never be soft and an ever-present twitchy movement that revealed how uncomfortable she was in her own skin.
But people perceived others how they wanted to, and it was usually some reflection of themselves. Often one they didn't think about, deep inside under a dozen grunge covered layers. At his comment though her posture straightened, shoulders back all proper like and when she spoke it was all Calvin McKenna, proper Ceche taught Clovennian. Knowing his place in the world (the top) before he knew his own name, "I only sleep on silk." It was likely that she could avoid seeing him for the rest of her days and still be able to wear his judgemental expression, managing to look down on Kelly for the beat that she held it though he was taller than her. It broke though at his expression, and she collapsed back on the bed, face contorted in silent giggles.
Right back into the Castyll voice then,"And we both know I'm the most interesting thing to happen to you in Glarryn knows how long so shush. Be nice." The attempted pitch to his ribcage was absolutely called for. If asked, she couldn't say when Clovis and plague had slipped from her everyday inner monologue, but she thinks it's a good omen. She plucked at the sleeve of his night shirt, "Are you going to wear this? And is there any sort of compliment you are okay with?"