The thing about men is that they tend to be impolite. Dorothea knows this, has known this since she was a child, and then learned it once again as she spent her time growing into a woman on stage in front of an audience. Men leer, and loom, and pinch. They feel entitled to what they think is theirs, and far too often, she's been the object of their entitlement.
Felix is rude, no doubt. But his prickliness is translated in the sharpness of his gaze, the tense way he holds his body, the distance he keeps between them. It's not what Dorothea is used to. She cherishes it, just a little. It's nice to be the one dictating how physically close she is to another person for a change.
She knows he does important work for Dimitri now, and she doesn't want to pry into what it is. She left that life behind, and anyway, there's no one left to relay that information to now. It's a different sort of life she leads now, one where the only war councils she's in are mere sets, and the only people who value her words of wisdom are the sopranos hoping to take her place.
"Don't dislike the opera," she echoes, smiling almost to herself. "What a hearty recommendation of the best Enbarr has to offer. I'll take that compliment." She's only barely joking. She knows how expressive to expect Felix to be, knows to be happy with what he's said. And she's not egoistic enough to think for a second that he came for her.
"I hope I can provide sufficient entertainment for the night. Before you have to go back to your busy schedule." She looks up at him, considering, then says, "I was going to take us to a nice restaurant, but that seems more like a treat for me than for you. There's a stand in the market that makes amazing skewers. How does that sound?"
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Felix is rude, no doubt. But his prickliness is translated in the sharpness of his gaze, the tense way he holds his body, the distance he keeps between them. It's not what Dorothea is used to. She cherishes it, just a little. It's nice to be the one dictating how physically close she is to another person for a change.
She knows he does important work for Dimitri now, and she doesn't want to pry into what it is. She left that life behind, and anyway, there's no one left to relay that information to now. It's a different sort of life she leads now, one where the only war councils she's in are mere sets, and the only people who value her words of wisdom are the sopranos hoping to take her place.
"Don't dislike the opera," she echoes, smiling almost to herself. "What a hearty recommendation of the best Enbarr has to offer. I'll take that compliment." She's only barely joking. She knows how expressive to expect Felix to be, knows to be happy with what he's said. And she's not egoistic enough to think for a second that he came for her.
"I hope I can provide sufficient entertainment for the night. Before you have to go back to your busy schedule." She looks up at him, considering, then says, "I was going to take us to a nice restaurant, but that seems more like a treat for me than for you. There's a stand in the market that makes amazing skewers. How does that sound?"