Tycondrius smiled politely at the young lady.
"Hmm... would you say, Miss Imperia... that gentleman callers often hold public exhibitions-- attempts to win your favor?"
"N-- Well-- I err... of course, they do!" The dark elf glared, "I'm a Princess of House Vulkoori! Of course, men are supposed to prostrate themselves before me! --which happens all the time!"
Tycon twisted his lips to the side. That... was close to the point he was making, while also being far from it.
"That, I believe, is what Krysaos is trying to prove," He explained... "At least to you."
"I don't like him LIKE THAT!!" The whelpling squeaked defensively.
"Ahem," Tycon cleared his throat... "*that* he is not below you... but is at least worthy of your respect."
It also had something to do with gaining the recognition of the two squads of Elven warriors attached to her and the Elven Ancient... but Tycon did not feel the need to mention that.
