Traitor! He can see the shadow of that laugh. Roman's going to pout and act as if he's the victim of a nefarious Renaissance genius who can't leave him alone with all that guilt-tripping and pep-talking she strategically plants on his way. Especially her favorite, the one she keeps harping on him for being a 'gross bachelor' at his 'age' as if Da Vinci had any actual experience in marriage. He used to have seven hundred wives (and three hundred concubines, plus some other side women)! He won't whine about it, because he knows at least Lord El Melloi II shares his preference of a single lifestyle too.

"...I don't think I will," Roman says, but his smile falters. He'll need to step in if something goes awry, though, if this threat requires a Grand Servant. He sighs, shaking his head. "She probably wouldn't know, sometimes she doesn't understand there are stakes with her eccentricities."

Oh, he smiles when he says aliens, and gives a half-choked laughter, "Uh, funny that you mentioned you that," Roman says helplessly, "The, um, aliens?" He gives a long stare but doesn't continue. It's almost as if he guessed the topic they were going to talk about.

Roman gasps at the rude signal, spreading his arms to block the screen. "Please don't do that in front of her!"