[It's rather a whiplash of emotions, as Maia speaks - first the faint, warm, crawling warmth of pleasure spreading at the fact that Maia wants him closer by, and then the rush of cold fear and sting of fear of rejection when Maia says things here need not be as they were in the Alcethmeret.

For a moment, Csevet looks at his Emperor, his eyes searching his face, his expression as neutral as he can make it, which is quite neutral indeed, trying to find the truth behind the contrasting statements.]

We may be interested in a move, an you wish it, Seren-

[A pause, and he exhales.]

Maia. [Another pause, more brief, before he continues, voice careful.] Were things here not as they were in the Alcethmeret, how would you wish them to be?

[And that's as close as he finds he can get to asking the question he truly wishes to ask. The change in subject is welcome, as Csevet is finding himself mildly flustered despite his calm demeanor, and he smiles slightly, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. Maia's ear are flattened with some emotion, whether embarrassment or annoyance, and he withdraws to a chair, folds his hands in the way he does when he's trying not to fidget, and the smile falls from Csevet's face altogether.]

There is no sense of obligation, or duty, or pity. We have always enjoyed offering our guidance to you when it was called for, and it would be no different in this place, regardless of topic.