[ His gaze doesn't break, out of habit more than anything, he was made to watch, made to observe without speaking. In that, this is difficult, he doesn't appreciate having direct questions pressed against him, things of how he felt or thought. But she did it so often, asked him what he thought, about even that which seemed trivial, he wasn't sure exactly, what to do with it. He's trying it now, how to say it clearly, what he thought, what he thought she wanted.

But she looked so confused, and unhappy with what he'd just said that the refusal is quick, shaking his head. ]

No... No, I'm not. I am bound, to my death, to my Empress. [ It's a mutter, really, nothing more than a statement but it's etched with far too much devotion. But he doesn't linger on it. He frowns, and pauses on explaining about Emily, he's not sure, it's difficult, for many reasons and their are nuances there he feels a little too tired to go into. ] But you are asking two very different things of me, and I do not know how to be either of these things.