[He was leaving because none of it felt right on his shoulders, either. So used to getting his own way, so accustomed to having his demands fulfilled at the snap of his fingers, Hermione had taken him by surprise. Just as she'd be an apt pupil, she'd proven a fierce lionness in defense of herself. Whereas most would've crumbled beneath his gaze and given way to his sheer strength of will, she pushed back. In fact, she pushed so hard that it might even be said Gilgamesh has yet to find his footing again.

But he knows now that his travels should take him elsewhere. He smiles a little when she joins him, and broader still when she teases like they were companionable again, like the trust was solid and firm instead of a thin red line drawn in the sand. A pretty red ribbon and a pretty red ring.

You're so good at pretending, he notes as they walk along, as his eyes trail to that ring. But have you forgotten yourself because of that? Pretty little magus.]

Dorian suggested a diet. [The dryness to his tone also suggests it went over poorly.] I don't have to eat. It's an indulgence. But I do enjoy tea, and plenty of wine, too. It makes life worth living, those sorts of luxuries.

[He has to wonder about that armor, though. It looked good on her, enviably so, and he can't but poke fun at her in return.]

You were quite the handsome knight just now. I should say I'm surprised you've taken up swordplay, but... it suits you.