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Her eyes widen, incandescent with pupils blown. Up until now, she'd assumed she was merely being cordial — when she'd worked as a food server, the men were receptive to idle chatter and the fluttering of eyelashes. It earned her good words from her supervisors and better cuts of meat, if she were lucky.
But this.
This was something she had little knowledge of, if at all. There is implication here. She thinks of her auntie, her mother; and then, she thinks of the Queen, of her promise that she mustn't do what she did not wish.
She panics internally as the stinging rot of his gaze burns into her gut. She decides to play naive; perhaps he'd go easy on her. She needed to think about this as to not upset him.
That's very sweet, she trills, ears airplaning humbly. you can set them just beside my bedfurs. While I'm up, would you, um, care for some wine? Maybe a cut of meat? I can... bring it back here?