"Oh, Aymeric. I can't sing." She snorted, eyes shut as she remained nestled close; absolutely ignoring everything and everyone else around them. Night Sky idly traced her fingers up and down his arm. "Mmm. Viscountess sounds fancy. Do I have to, like, do fancy things? I mean - important fancy things. How many balls do you hold per year?" She was slurring and... mostly teasing.