"I'd say I represented the Alliance well." Ever since he was announced as the winner of the White Heron Cup, Claude has been grinning from ear to ear. He pulls a winter rose from the crown and tucks it into Lorenz's pocket. "There. My patronage, to the one always reminding me of my duty to support my social lessers." A wink. "Methinks that blue suits you just as much as red, good sir. The men will thank me." Snowmelt lingers from the crown-Claude boops Lorenz on the nose with a cold, wet finger.
“You did indeed represent us well. Congratulations.” Lorenz watched as Claude tucked in the rose next to his other rose and smiled, genuinely feeling warm. The romantic implications weren’t unnoticed... but it was Claude. He was certain someone else had a huge share of it, or that Claude was going to simply keep it. One little rose and the odd teasing proximity he liked to keep was only to rile Lorenz up.
Perhaps he and Hilda coordinated it. Lorenz would have to work on his poker face.
“Ah, thank-” Lorenz blinked when Claude booped his nose. “-you.” And what was that about men? Oh yes, right, Claude knew.
His cheeks threatened to turn pink again and Lorenz quickly dabbed at his nose with a handkerchief.
“And I’m sure everyone will flock to our Heron Cup champion. Enjoy a well earned victory round, Claude.” Lorenz bowed slightly and gave Claude a smile, turning to leave.