Aleksandra rolled her shoulders and forced her muscles to relax, still feeling shivery from his touch. She stretched and bent and moved her arms, satisfied that she'd be able to move around properly in her clothes, then turned to watch the prince turn himself into a fool. She couldn't help herself. She started laughing, a surprisingly high, feminine laugh that sounded like a joyful little bird. "You look like one of the court jesters in Upper Genta. All those garish colors. All you need is one of those moronic hats with the little bells," she giggled, making long, curved lines over her head with her fingers to make the shape of the hat.

Her cheeks and belly were sore as her laughter died down into the occasional snort. Every time she looked at him, she couldn't help but laugh. He looked mad, honestly, and if everyone at the feast looked like that, she would die by asphyxiation from laughing so much. Not to mention how horribly out of place she would look, small as she was and dressed as if mourning someone's death. Though she guessed that was Aulfr's intention. Let everyone know she wasn't just a slave. She was a weapon.

She walked over and started straightening his clothes, retying anything loose or messy, making him look as decent as he could while dressed so foolishly. She was his servant, after all. She couldn't let him walk into that carnival looking a mess, could she? "If all your feasts look as festive as you, remind me never to attend another. This should be the first thing to go when you're Oberjarl. I want to burn this coat personally."

She stepped back, looked him over, then got close again. She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down until they were face-to-face, and she put her hands in his hair. She paused for a moment, surprised. It was softer than she'd expected. She pushed that thought aside and combed the tangles from his hair, then arranged it into some semblance of order. When she was done, she took a step away and said, "There. Prince of Fools. Is it time for us to leave yet?"