All the Argent could do in the face of Konrad's amused horror was grin, and toss more flowers at him. Surely the gardener would think some Nameless scum to have snuck into the topiary gates in the middle of the night, and he would have been almost-right. The Sil'norai could only bring himself to laugh as -- while Konrad resisted -- he made sure to pocket each flower, as if he appreciated them as gifts.
Konrad slapped at his hands and took hold of his wrist, the Sil'norai wiggling limp at his grasp as if it had paralyzed him from moving further. "Your cause is righteous; I will relent," he said, teasing. Stephan snatched one final flower from the bush, however, and offered it to Konrad as a direct gift. The one in his hand appeared to have rose-like accents within its shimmering, chromatic shades, tones of peach and gold. It was not his gift to give, of course, but he thought it to be pretty and figured the man could use a decoration or two. Perhaps something to remind him of his charge, even while they were apart.
Either way, he settled himself and listened to Konrad, all the while rushing them away from the scene of the crime to ensure they were not directly associated with the theft... in case that same enraged gardener stumbled upon the site.
The Savant spoke of his mother, making a rather... peculiar comment about what it might take to please her, though Stephan considered it to be genuine. He looked the other man up-and-down for a moment, and thought it to be plausible that he had some issues of pride with his stature, perhaps concerns shared by his parents. Particularly a mother who was an 'athlete'... though Taelian himself felt little concern regarding such things.
As odd as it might have been, Stephan responded to Konrad's statement factually. "It is not impossible for two male lovers to have children, through Necromancy. It is a wildly complicated process -- one that typically involves a... erm, host, but hold out hope, dathúil. You may yet be able to bear my titanic babes." He made the comment in jest, with a small but clear bout of laughter following it. Stephan was, himself, an inexperienced Necromancer -- but the practice was common enough in Daravin that any novice sculptor of flesh knew of it.
As the man explained his parents more and more, the mage appeared to be trying to connect the dots. Konrad's father made perfect sense to him, and from him, he appeared to take considerable inspiration. A writer... yes, Konrad himself likely fit the bill. He imagined that the young man enjoyed literary works as much as Sil'norai poetry, and actually inscribing his own was surely something he had done in the past. As for an athlete -- he seemed fit enough, though he had a somewhat lithe and delicate frame.
He surmised that in a country like Lorien, where few actually needed to work to survive, people picked up hobbies simply because they wanted to, and parents would share their talents with their children not as a matter of life and death, but a point of pride. Still, Konrad appeared rather bitter regarding his parents, and it appeared clear enough that he felt they were not pleased with him. That they were, perhaps, dissatisfied with many details about him, despite Stephan seeing him as all manner of brilliant. It was a shame.
Stephan exhaled a surprisingly warm breath, and nodded as the man finally recalled the source material for his name. Indeed -- a man of absurd ivory-colored hair, long and wavy, like every romanticized Sil'norai man. The fashion had changed to much shorter cuts since then, if only to ensure some corrupted insect was not being hosted in their web of hair.
"You did not deny being as handsome as him, or as well-spoken," he said, grinning. "And, I'll take the flowers in your pocket as an up, rather than a down. Surely you wouldn't demean my gifts," Stephan teased.
The man gestured for Konrad to sit beside him upon one of the benches, the ornate metal frame accepting the shape of his back as he spread out his feet.
"I, for one, think you to be an exceptional man, though you already knew that. Parents can be ridiculous things to please. At times I am glad that I do not have them, as even Vendrael's expectations have been... difficult for me to match," he said. "I do apologize for being difficult to attend, dathúil. I can be a whimsical, flippant man at times. I do respect you, though, and as I learn of your boundaries I will learn to respect those as well. Though I can't deny that a part of me believes you would like for some of them to be crossed: irrevocably so, perhaps," Stephan mused.
"Well..." the man sighed. There was much on his mind, and he was uncertain of what -- if any of it -- would be appropriate to utter, at least in the moment. "Why don't we tour the city a little longer, and then meet with Lady Engel? For as long as both of us can stand to bear. After that -- we can return to my room in the Lodge, revert me to my lounging attire, and speak more about... politics or what have you. Perhaps even magic, to satisfy some of the curiosities you might have acquired. We have nothing but time."
