Such might be the thinking of a simpleton, but Yazad was fine with being that if it meant peace of mind and ease of heart.
In friends? Yazad’s eyes softened at the utterance. So even someone as aloof as Niccolette had their circle of friends, which was a good thing. The passive wondered, silently, if the woman’s friends were anything like her, or if the rule of ‘opposites attract’ applied in this case. He himself cannot say that he has any, or that he knows what that kind of connection is about.
A face adorned with freckles and jewel-like eyes came to mind. The Brunnhold passive was not a friend--not likely. He had only spoken to her a couple of times, and the man felt that the title warranted more closeness than that, but he still enjoyed her company quite a bit.
"With...the mona?" The man repeated Niccolette’s words, eyes blinking slowly. He knew of the mona and the bond galdori have with them, but the way Niccolette spoke of it--it indicated something more intimate than the simple possession of magical abilities. An explanation would most likely be a waste on him, for he knew nothing of magic and the mona beyond the simple, basic fact of them being the force that makes magic possible.
Friends and a relationship with the mona--both things that Yazad could not say that he has much of.
And back to watching Niccolette’s profile he went, thoughtfully. It was not what she had said that made the passive wonder, but rather what she did not say. Silently, but without bothering with subtlety, Yazad’s eyes redirected their focus from the galdor woman’s face to her gloved left hand, and the band that he knew was beyond that. Was her marriage not a source of joy to her? Had it been a compulsory union? That was not entirely unheard of, but he could not see someone like Niccolette get forced into anything she did not want. But life was not always -Yazad knew- about what one wants.
There was a soft clearing of Yazad’s throat and a moment of lingering silence before he asked his question. "If I may ask, madam...Is your matrimony, ahem, going well?" That sounded like a more polite thing to ask rather than ‘Were you forcibly married?’ or ‘Have you married an unfitting spouse?’. Even if one of these was true, even if she was unhappy in her marriage, there really was nothing that he could do about it except, perhaps, pray for a change in her fortune.
Whether Niccolette wanted to answer or not, the lively voices filling the air of the street they had entered were enough of a distraction to divert Yazad’s attention. The smell of coffee, the scent of baked sugar and flour, the words being merrily exchanged by well-dressed patrons: it all brought to mind a conversation that he had not too long ago, about dream cafes and wishes that are doomed to stay just that.