Faolan glances down at the hand on his arm and then back at Lancelot's face and the faint and gentle, wry smile there. He isn't sure that he's ever been called a good friend before, not in such an honest, earnest way as the other man has just done. He licks his lips slightly, uncertain of how to follow such a statement, before he simply nods.

"So long as you will offer me that much, then I suppose that we have ourselves a deal," he says. He's reluctant to slip out from the other man's touch, but he does, moving to stand and cross the room to get the door. To find Lily, of course, sitting there waiting for him just on the other side of it.

"Come on, then," he tells her, and opens the door wider to usher her in.