Oh, Haurchefant. Too often he says things like that, things that make Y'tajha's stomach twist itself into knots despite the fact that they're just friends, things that give her an excuse to break every rule she's set for herself since coming here, things that make her smile in a way that has Tataru nudging some of the soldiers a few tables down, pointing and whispering and grinning.

At this table too, the soldiers are watching the exchange, but she barely notices them; her smile softens, and she shakes her head at the garrison's commander. "Far be it for my stubbornness in this matter to give your House an unfair reputation." There's a light tone in her words, too, the miqo'te matching Haurchefant's dance step for step. "Very well, my lord, I surrender; I swear that I will petition you if I am in need of anything at all."

With that said, she takes another bite from her breakfast, trying not to dwell too much on what exactly she means by that. When tonight is undoubtedly as sleepless as last night, will she approach his door?