At first, Enjolras is silent as he listens to Sansa; she guides him away from the hallway, most likely to the gardens she speaks of, and he simply looks around the Keep. It is busy, as the young woman had said.
“I assure you I am not troubled, my lady— I am quite well.” He is troubled, in truth— he has been through every possible way he may be able to stop his sister from wedding Joffrey, but none of them are plausible, and he is rather frustrated about this. “There is nothing finer than a wedding to lift the spirits.”
It was something of an oddity, to actually be spending any time with someone and not have to hide some form of disdain for them--but such was life for a wolf among lions. "My apologies then, for misreading the issue." Sansa still remained convinced, however, that there was something causing a certain tenseness about his expression--but was not one to push the issue.
"I'm told it's to be quite the occasion." And were it anyone but him being wedded, she might have even been looking forward to such an event. "At the very least, it should be nice to see new faces, I find myself with a lack of company these days." Well, a lack of company that was actually wanted.
