[ Sylvain gives a single slow blink, as if he's trying to figure out if that's the man's actual answer, or this is more weirdness going on with the magic in this place. Because there's been a lot of that going around and while some of it is fun, other parts of it just give him the creeps.

Then again, with what the man is currently wearing? Maybe not.

So he shrugs and lets himself play along for now, curious and intrigued. People have been acting weird around him all day, after all, ever since the shower this morning, although it seems to be happening in varying degrees of interest. Who knows what other unknown tricks are lurking about this place? ]

You can call me Sylvain, I am definitely not a lord around here. [ Even if he is one back home, but that's always a bit of a sore topic in general. He'd prefer to leave that whole mess tucked safely back in Faerghus, thanks. ] And considering I'm a soldier myself, you're in good company.

[ Although he is a very accomplished dancer, thanks to the Academy. ]

So I think you'd still make for a fine date. Was that an invitation? Or was that the hand delivery of this? [ And he holds up the handle of the leash. Which is... still stubbornly twined about his fingers and refusing to loosen. Not that he'd tried that hard just yet. ]