Gillian had to stifle every urge he had not to look amused by Martina’s outburst. He was by no means offended. He’d met few dwarfs in his time but almost all had a forwardness that he could not help but find refreshing. He also knew most did not cotton to being (for lack of a better word) belittled. Nor did they respond well to being patted on the head, as the urge struck him at the moment.  Such acts, more often than not, were followed swiftly by some form of physical retaliation (and then drinking, depending on the quality of the brawl). 

“I apologize ma’am.” He says, an amused grin bubbling to the surface only for a second as Delacroix rushed to the captains side, clearly as flustered by the display as the other nobles. “We’re just so far from the Grey Mountains I’d forgotten the tradition. Nor did I recognize your heritage at first glance, so the fault lays squarely on me.” He returns his gaze to Fanlily, still clearly a little amused, though thankful for the half-dwarfs presence. If nothing else, she’d make more enjoyable company than the nobles sharing drinks and crocodile smiles. “I apologize captain; I’ll attempt to be the model of civility from here onwards.” He says, cheerfully ignoring the annoyed growls of his diminutive fellow knight.