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Gyllene was at a loss. How did one proceed? If she went with her heart, she'd tackle him to the ground and groom his face and giggle and profess her endless and undying adoration. If she went with what her mind was telling her to do, she'd graciously smile, dip her head, and very smoothly begin mentally planning their wedding feast.

Gyllene settled on a mix of the two. She started off with a rather huge, charming smile and immediately butt her head against his shoulder. It was a little shy, but not uncomfortable for her to do. As for professing her love, Gyllene decided that what they had was maybe not quite love but could be someday - they were certainly compatible enough, and he was absolutely handsome enough.

And funny enough, and confident enough.

He was actually pretty Godsdamned perfect, in Gyllene's mind.

Plus, he'd chosen her as his consort, which was - to Gyllene - a huge, huge honor.

"What sort of celebration will we have?" She spoke the words to herself, having pulled back from being quite close to Ru. Gyllene glanced at him with a huge grin. "I promise not to be a nagging wife."

There was something empowering in looking at a male and realizing that he was yours and you were his. She would be the Warlord's consort, yes, but she'd never been sought power and the fact that she was marrying the Warlord wasn't what pleased her. The fact that she was marrying Ru was what made her feel a little wild, a little powerful, a little giddy. His words caused her to smile, as he was being rather adorable, but there was a little fire that had been lit deep in her belly.

"After."

It probably wasn't clear what she was talking about, but suddenly she was moving deeper into her den. She paused for only a second to glance over her shoulder at Ru, a very specific look on her face that she hoped against hope he'd pick up on. Gyllene didn't want to have to come out and blatantly tell him that she wanted him. Now.

Like, right now.

"Come here."

Hopefully that was enough, and hopefully that would suffice.