"Of course," she agrees, smile hanging onto the corners of her mouth. "It's not a performance without someone to watch." If perky were ever a word that could be applied to her, now would be the moment- when she's talking about her theories, things she's noted in her own life, looking delighted with herself all the while, though any modesty or innocence she espouses is tongue in cheek.

"Though- so sorry- you don't look like a performer, exactly." Which is to say that whatever he's doing here, it's more like sport than whatever he got up to at home- as far as Irene can tell from the way he carries himself and (most importantly) the tempted twitch of his sword at his opponent's neck.