"I may have some difficulty simultaneously trying to see if we like each other's senses of humor and trying to find a suitable affair."

"Then I will leave it up to you, which you go with," says Edarial. "It's you who would be carrying the child, after all."

"Do you have an idea of what meandering timidly in the direction of option two would look like in terms of concrete actions, possibly with a timeline attached?"

"Er. At the risk of sounding corny - dates, talking, walks through pretty gardens, the bestowal of silly presents... That kind of thing? I have no idea what the timeline would be, though."

"Corniness is far from a significant problem," Iobel assures him dryly. "Do you think it would take more than one tragic miscarriage to have a good idea of whether this would work?"

"No idea," he sighs. "I have never fallen in love before."

"Neither have I."

"I have nothing nonclinical to go on," she points. "I'm assuming you know more about political instability and what will and won't exacerbate it than I do or I might produce an opinion on that basis. But how am I supposed to know how much I might like someone with whom I might have an extramarital affair before having met him, or whatever? All the options are potentially acceptable."

"And as you keep pointing out we don't know each other well enough to have a proper relationship, so of course I'm being likewise about you. I'm willing to try if you are, but I'm not going to fabricate an emotional connection that has not developed."

Edarial nods. "That's fair. I am... Willing to try it."

"All right." Pause. "So when shall I mark in my schedule the first date?"

"I don't know - what time seems best?"

"Depends on what we'll be doing. If you had dinner in mind, tomorrow morning would be very peculiar as a choice of timing."

Edarial snorts. "Just a bit. Okay then - what sort of... datish... thing seems like it would be fun to do?"

"Do you know a garden that is nice for walking in?"

"A few, actually. Do you want the one that has lots of flowers, the one with lots of trees, or the one with a lake?"

"Flowers sound most interesting. Unless it's bee-infested."

"Butterfly infested. Far worse, I know."

"Save me from the butterflies! How terrible that you would even think of taking me to such a place, after lunch tomorrow."

"Truly terrible," he snorts. "I apologize for even thinking the thought, butterflies are terrifying creatures. That come in lots of pretty colors."

"So. After lunch tomorrow, butterfly garden."

"Sure!"

"Do I get a silly present? What is going to be silly about the presents?"