He is a huge hypocrite, of course. He will always hold himself to standards of perfection far beyond what he would ask of others. Standards that are largely unachievable. Standards of expectations set for him by his Father in his youth that he has only spent his years compounding on.

Still he likes the idea of that, the next generation able to find and embrace love, to be free in a reborn Fódlan that is ripe with opportunities. It only makes his smile brighter as he nods his agreement. But she looks up at him and he hesitates briefly... before allowing the words to stumble out of him, awkward and staggered in a way the hand that brushes her cheek is not.

"I- that is... if you- M-may I test something?" His hand stills uncertainly, fingers halfway through tucking a lose strand back into the weave of her braid.