"Byerly," Sonia breathes, startled; it comes out of her as no more than a whisper itself. Color rises to her cheeks unbidden as she catches a glimpse of something truly raw, feels it pressed hard to her skin. She had been expecting a joke, or even those words in just an entirely different tone...she finds her breath still in her chest and has to force it out, swallowing. Startled, but -- not discomfited, strangely. No bowing or scraping, no reeling from some unexpected answer -- whatever that was, that moment of fierce feeling, had nothing to do with her title. She doesn't pull her hand back, doesn't take her eyes off him. He is different. Maybe more than anyone else she's met here.

"Thank you," she says softly after a long moment of quiet, because she doesn't know what else to say.