' are drinks on you 'is time, or am i t' play th' southern prince again? ' / loux, im so sorry
“Sure.” – she shrugs; her blue eyes now curiously looking at him. Slightly narrowed in a gentle surprise. Not that Nunnally mind paying. But she is just not used to it. Most (if not all) men she knows would be offended if she even proposed to pay for herself, not to mention for them. But then most (if not all) of them would consider her a pretty ornament, a doll, an object to add to (or to emphasize) their status. So, Loux's question is not truly unwelcomed; it is even refreshing.
Though would Loux be that different from the men she meets most often? She knows him for a short time, so Nunnally cannot decide. So far, he was fun, so that is what should be important for her at this moment. She just wants to enjoy herself...until he's not fun anymore. And she is sure he just wants the same.
So, she shakes her head letting her blond locks dance around her neck. She is pretty; she knows that and she is not ashamed of it. She’ll be the prettiest girl in the club; and if not, definitely the richest and best dressed: --
“Truth to be told…” – she laughs – “I’ve never liked princes…” – she knew some of them and they were never fun; too proper for her or with her actually – “They’re boring…” – she pouts – “And especially the real ones…”
She giggles cheerfully while offering him a proper curtsy; the one she was taught when she was meeting some royals. As if he was a true prince. It is ridiculous for her, though she cannot deny it: she has a life of a princess. In fact, she is a princess.
Taking his arm as she continues laughing; Nunnally's not going to leave Loux without a tease. He needs to earn his drinks; that’s only fair: --
“So if not a Southern prince, who are you going to play for me today?”
