You grasp Sunday's hand, bringing it to your lips, peering into his eyes which are overcast with a shadow of awkwardness. It feels that you have never seen anything more heavenly – true, pure beauty that you have always strived for. Swallowing a sigh of admiration, you kiss his knuckles, covered by a fabric of his glove.

"I thought such polite gestures had become obsolete centuries ago." Sunday murmurs, smiling slyly.

"It's impossible for a knight not to bow before your unearthly charm."