“As you can see, I’m not terribly sensible either.” She offered a brief curtsey, hand over heart. “I’m Summer, fellow nonsensical person.”
Fandral chuckled then bowed to her. “Fandral the Dashing. Of Asgard,” he greeted, taking her hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Lady Summer,” he said and placed a gentle kiss to her hand.
“Oh, nono, I’m not — ” He kissed her hand and she coloured. “I’m not a lady,” she finished. “But, um, well met, anyway, Fandral the Dashing. It makes you sound like a pirate, that byname. Are you an Asgardian pirate?” She can’t help the slight teasing, putting mischief between herself and the way her heart fluttered when he kissed her hand.