[ the despondence darkening his features softens with her bold display, and then sunday appears to regain a bit of peace of mind. mona is not an idiot; convincing him immediately would be a difficult. with time, however... she hopes that sunday will feel comfortable enough to trust her. the way in which he marveled her magic was pleasant, and with what she can discern about him, he is someone in need of support.

so, she doesn't reply just yet, finishing off her biscuit as he makes a move to stand once more. the nervous tic sunday displays afterwards is admittedly endearing. ]

Good, [ she says, reaching out to wipe her hand on a napkin. ] An answer like that is satisfactory.

[ when mona lifts her gaze up to look at him, her confident smile has transitioned into one a little gentler. ]

We will meet again, Sunday. For now, please look after yourself.

[ will, she emphasizes.

fate has been decided. ]