“Hello, ma’am,” Matthew addressed her. “How are you, on this fine day?”
“I’m well,” Risa said stiffly.
“As am I,” Matthew said. “Might I say, your roosari perfectly complements the depths of your eyes?”
“No,” Risa said, “you may not.”
“I… well.” Matthew blinked, trying to hide his disappointment. “Might I at least say that you look very well?”
Risa exhaled slowly, then gave him a slight smile. “Yes,” she said. “You might say that.”
“I’m glad, as it is nothing short of the truth.” He paused. “Might I also say that my waistcoat matches the precise hue of the pearl in your necklace?”
“I suppose,” she said. “It is, after all, a statement of fact.” Risa did not make this sound like the complement that it so obviously ought to be.
“Does the piece hail from China?” He asked. “During my travels, I had the pleasure of seeking out pink pearls near the ocean in Qingdao. It was quite a serene place. Even I was able to clear my mind for a few moments.”
“A feat, I am sure.” Matthew thought that this was all she was going to say, but then she adjusted her roosari and sighed. “Yes, oddly, you are correct. One of my cousins married a Chinese man, another mundane. They reside together in Shanghai now.”
“That is wonderful – Shanghai is a lovely place. Have you been there, Ms…?”
“Yes,” Risa informed him, and Matthew was wondering if she was enjoying tormenting him by not telling him her surname. “I have been to a great many places as Sona’s companion. Likely more than you.”
“I’m not too sure about that. I have set foot on every continent.”
“As have I,” Risa said. “Twice over, at least.”