Faolan isn't certain what sort of reaction he had expected, but his heart thuds suddenly in his chest at the fact that Lancelot hadn't completely brushed his request off. He's sure it's nothing. It has to be nothing. It is nothing...right?

He swallows convulsively before forcing himself to speak up and answer the question, shrugging slightly. "Somewhere that I could enjoy your company and you could enjoy yourself," he says, simply. "It is to be your evening, Lancelot. At least, I will do my best to make it so. You deserve no less than that much."