Moonspear champagne

She hooked him with baited breath, then a cold wash overcame him at her proposal. It was not so chilly as to make him shudder and surprisingly he found himself able to keep it together in light of her words. Did she think to ensnare him and hold him tighly so? She had lured him there to Moonspear to begin with, so perhaps it was her intentions he needed to reconsider. He could not answer that question, not that he could fault her for budding thoughts of conventional romance... but he was far from a conventional sort.

"Are you not a woman grown enough to let a leading man steal her away?" His words were teasing and teased they did that boundary, either daring to embolden her resolve or set her teeth angrily to his flesh from hurt. It seemed his turn to play coy with that still lingering smile; the mood may have begun to pass him ever slightly but he would try to save the moment all the same. Such seemed their game anyway, ever back and forth though here he did not quite doubt a note of seriousness placed. It held him to a sobering place then and he thought to add before her riposte.

"You know," he started, far from his usual fanfare, "the spring will come and whisk winter away, and I too." It was his turn to break away and regard her from arm's length. That knavish smile had disappeared now. "And while there are many things in this world I desire to see for myself, I should think they'd be better with you. I am quite fond of your company, after all." He paused before letting it all taper off, not quite sure of what words to pluck from thinning air. This, he decided, this was more nerve wracking than any dispute he had wormed his way out of. Offering an invitation barely veiled in a time when more than just tensions ran high set his heart near to thundering.