She tries for solemnity, really she does, but the sheer effort and exasperation on his face just make her laugh, ducking her chin and pulling her hands up to muffle the sound - which only really serves to drag his up along with them.

"Oh," she manages, somewhere between laughs and the tangle of fingers. "My mother would adore you."

Very rarely did anyone even continue to bother trying to make Yvaine compromise after a few millennia of hardheadedness.

"Yes. I think that I could manage that."