The harp? Genevieve was a little surprised. It was such a feminine instrument and she was sure he would have said something else. Genevieve actually wasn't sure what she had expected, but not the harp. It made sense to her, however. From what she knew he was a gentle man, but also firm in his beliefs, just as the harp was a gentle instrument, but one who's notes did not fade into the background of an accompaniment.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"I am well, my Lady."</span><br/><br/>His answer almost seemed mechanic, like he was concentrating on something other than their conversation. Not pressing further, Genevieve went back to her own plate, using a fork and knife to cut up her fruit into dainty, bite sized pieces. Her attention was brought from her plate as she heard the soft thud of an upturned glass. She, along with the room, seemed to stop breathing in the brief moment before action was taken. Was he<span style="font-style: italic">nervous</span>? Perhaps she should help calm his nerves. Her brow furrowed as she looked to her plate and took a bite of her fruit. How? She had never had to deal with her suitor being nervous around her. Of course, most of them had been much older men used to courting.<br/><br/>When he spoke of the coming days, Genevieve suppressed a sigh. They would be extremely busy, it seemed, leaving them little time to actually spend together. Why was she so disappointed in the thought? They were to be married, of course, so naturally she would need to spend time wi-No. Genevieve corrected her thoughts. They needed to spend time together so she could change his mind and send her away. She had spent one night here and already she was beginning to<span style="font-style: italic">actually</span>entertain the idea of marriage.<br/><br/>Keeping from clearing her throat, it was so unladylike, Genevieve nodded before speaking. "It sounds like we have a busy 9 days ahead of us." She assumed he must have a wedding dress already commissioned since he had had gowns made for her arrival. There must be a fitting in there somewhere, but Elenore surely would be the one in charge of that. She hid her own discomfort with a smile, but she wasn't sure if the king caught it. He still seemed so preoccupied.<br/><br/>Perhaps it was too formal between them? Silently, Genevieve wondered if breaking the formality would help him relax a little. Of course, he could also find it extremely inappropriate, just as Elenore had. Genevieve's heart fluttered for reasons she could not explain. Was<span style="font-style: italic">she</span>really that nervous?<br/><br/>"If.. " However unladylike, Genevieve involuntarily cleared her throat. "If you'd like, you may all me Genevieve." Her nickname may have been a little too informal. Perhaps after they were married. "But only if it doesn't make you uncomfortable." She rushed to add and almost stumbled aver her words. She tried to recover by returning to her plate. Apparently his nerves were contagious. Genevieve took a sip of her tea and used the movement to ease tension from her shoulders.