Perhaps that modesty was another fault shared between them... but it, much like compassion, was a virtue so often lacking in his own world. How often had even even said that much to a willing ear?

For now, though... perhaps he'd spoken enough. For now. Ramza sat upright, a sweep of his palm pushing his hair from before his eyes. He'd tell her she discredited herself, but...

"...Perhaps."

That would do for now. He wouldn't have heard it of himself, either, and he felt as though he'd set volumes upon Freya's shoulders already.

"I should tell you the rest another time," he spoke out over a moment's rumination. "And have us sit for drinks, if you'd like."