[ yes, sylvain definitely recognises the girls that flee the room at dorothea's command and yes, he most certainly appreciates the heart-felt thumbs up that one of them throws his way before they all scarper out. while he had gotten more than he'd bargained for when he'd infiltrated the mittelfrank, dorothea's troupe seemed to be a group of genuine people concerned only for her wellbeing - if not a little eager to see her happiness come to fruition. he'd had to excuse himself once he'd gotten the information he'd come for because he could've easily been tied up there all day, fielding questions and being given more 'insider intel' about dorothea than he thinks he's safe knowing.

following her into the dressing room, whatever sense sylvain gets that he's terribly out of place (in the opera house, that is - it's not like he's not seen the inside of a ladies' dressing room before) is replaced by being slightly stunned that dorothea simply disappears behind the screen at the end of the room. like, y'know, that's nothing - like she's not just disrobing on the other side of that divider, and - hm, you know what?

sylvain turns around and faces the other way because as much as his mind is encouraging him to be devilish, he's also much taller than most people that use this room, and well. riding for a week and a half to get slapped in the face would be a decidedly bad outcome.

folding his arms, he laughs quietly at her accusations, and tries to take his mind off of the fact that this gorgeous woman is unclothed feet behind him by looking over the items on her dressing table with extremely mild interest. ]

I don't know what you're talking about, but speaking as someone who's never met them before in their life? They seem like good people.

[ you can almost hear the grin in his voice. ]

Good people that are definitely not invested in your romantic life.