That is exactly what he promises— even if the results of that effort may vary, considering his sternness and her whims: he remains certain he can bar her from rising and donning armor, at the very least. To ensure she eats and shuts her eyes. The most basic of needs, but the most vital, also.

His palm rises from her hand, resting heavily across her brow. Not pressing, nor measuring, only— steadying. He leaves it there as he watches her, pale eyes summarizing the damage scattered across her features.

“As you say.” It is a concession made with decorum. “even so, it would be best to keep the matter of our own...familiarity between us, as a generality.”

It is not a deception, only a privacy, he would argue.