[It is awkward, because while Henry is not in a rageful mood like yesterday, he is still not very keen on doling out compliments. Not with any sincerity. Still, as he stands, straightening the wrinkles out of his shirt with smoothing hands, he supposes not much of it needs to be sincere.

It's been a while since he's had to play the nice, polite orderly. The man with the kind smile and helpful demeanor. But he finds, as he falls back into the role, it still slides on with the ease of a second skin.

And so, for the first time, he smiles at her. It's dim, but there.]

Years. I've been trapped for a long time. Fresh air, sunlight, and a well-manicured garden aren't usual sights for me anymore.

But it looks nice. You did well.