That she does not deny, specifically, is likely condemnation enough. Her focus stays on Luciano, fingers dancing at him once again, because being caught in a child's vice-like grip is infinitely preferable to this.

She remembers Taliesin - remembers killing him. That had been a day just as any other, marked as significant only because of what he had said of Zevran, of a man who had been her brother already.

"I imagine it does," she agrees, brow still pinched, even as Zevran and Luciano laugh. Adorable, but not entirely a salve for this. "You will weather it, Zevran. If the thought of settling on either option disappoints you, then perhaps you have your answer." A pause, and, "although the same can be said for ordering dessert, so perhaps that is not the soundest advice for such a situation as this, for all that love and dessert are comparatively indulgent and sickening." A wry smile of her own, at that.

"It is not matter to apologise for. She shall remain so. There is no need to cause disturbance for a foolish infatuation."