Have times changed so much, that men no longer speak so softly to those they cherish?

[He's really not doing a whole lot to dissuade from that "such a romantic" thing, is he. Still, he gets himself up and out of the stone coffin, making his way over to stand in front of Ashe and his Doll. He's taller than her by six inches or so, but he's no stranger to towering over women; frankly, he'd find it stranger if he didn't.

She curtsies, and in return he offers her a lordly bow, reaching out to take her hand and kiss the knuckles with reverence. It's as much to investigate subtly what in the world she could be made of as it is to make a show of his courtesy, and he's surprised to find her "skin" is segmented at all the joints, and the hard smooth texture of porcelain.]

Did the church not find it strange that you brought your mother with you to the academy?