He wouldn't press her; he was sure that, given the opportunity, she'd have spoken up if she'd had a particularly strong opinion. "Here, then," he said, lifting his chin casually to survey the border that ran between the gardens and the tree line. "I wouldn't be without at least one. Whatever you need, you'll have." Elves weren't easily replaced, but it wasn't a point on which he was willing to compromise, and - surely, no young man would see his mother off without a proper complement of servants. It wouldn't make him feel any more at home, and he doubted it would help her in that regard, but this was how things were done. The time had come to leave.
... Which didn't change the fact that she was clearly unhappy. He took her hand and raised it to his lips almost as a reflex as they made the slow turn back towards the house. "There's no reason we shouldn't set it off until tomorrow," he pointed out, although the sun was still high in the sky. "You've been worrying too much. It won't do any harm to take the evening."