Well-played, King. The Worry somewhere almost behind his eyes is smoothed, replaced by almost Contentment for half a second.

"...she is, sire." Fond is something sometimes hard to Discern from a blank voice, but Clive might note it. "It's... nothing short of a blessing she's agreed." But enough about him. "One would be rather more concerned how you're doing, milord."

What with the Drinking and not wanting Tea.