“Imperial luck and a nose for comfort,” he answers with a grin. The occasions he’s been wandering in the Nexus aren’t near as frequent as they ought to be, but when he does… well, even with his adventurous intentions, a hint of the familiar can’t help but draw one in.

He knows that grin and its cousins so well; his own might be one of them, despite the feigned uncertainty. “Well, it wouldn’t be quite right to drink before working up a thirst, would it? I think I can make it through one- no, two dances before I wet my throat.”

He offers her his hand, bowing slightly. He may regret this in a minute, but he can’t possibly back down.