[Rinea listens carefully, but she watches perhaps moreso. The juxtaposition of a statuesque, austere Somnus against the whimsical flower blooms is... actually not as jarring as she expected. Perhaps that is proof of how much better she knows him, now? That she can see the man beneath the detached demeanor?

Though... if his minute expressions are anything to go by, the excessive amount of thought he's putting into the laurel is charmingly funny.]

Very well. I shall treasure it while it lasts.

[In preparation of wearing it, Rinea reaches up to unclip her hair ornaments from their customary position above her ears. Once she's gotten them both she pauses, her gaze arrested at the sight of them between her fingers. They... were a gift from Berkut, once. One of the first. Everything else she has put away-- even her ring-- but these yet remain. They are remnants of something lost to time... an old fondness she's held onto.

She places them in the pocket of her skirt.]

I hope you did not take offense to the longer-lasting press I made of your last floral gift. [A joke.]