[And there it is, unearthed from the pause following the declaration of just how easily the ladies swoon over a war hero. A sincere consideration for the city around them, an observation that belies his friend’s usual easy demeanor; it is enough for Dimitri to cast his own gaze back, away from the circle of dancers with whom he had broken away so hastily. Their laughter, ringing in his ears — quite the difference from the weary and leery looks that had been cast his direction earlier in the day.

He must concede the point — somewhat, at least. Dimitri is a bit too empathetic a soul to truly argue against it, his kindness an undercurrent beneath the usual stiff-upper-lip and straight-backed first impressions. But in the same breath that he deigns to reply, Sylvain’s gone and banished the serious moment passing between them, so fleeting that it might have not existed at all.

Dimitri knows better, of course. Turning back to look at his old friend, an eyebrow is arched, despite his softened, somewhat resigned, expression.]

You know that was not my meaning. I would not smother their burgeoning hopes in my first day here.

[He’s not that cruel, not that angry — not any longer.]

Any doubts I will keep between myself and Otherworlders, not needlessly recited in the midst of celebration. Though— [He crosses his arms, shoulders squared, considering Sylvain.] I would have your opinion about all of… this. Our new circumstances and what you think of them.