Lemm is curled into himself like he has any chance of just commanding himself to stop. As it fades just enough for him to get a proper grip of himself, the little flickers of ink from the Knight's applause hits the surface and his hand clamps quickly across his mouth like a safeguard. It nearly sets him off again.

It's a long time before he trusts himself to speak.

"This," his hand comes to rest between the Knight's horns, and a thumb begins trying to smudge off some of the ink "is the L-Lord of Shades, you see, long may they... Aha. I demand compensation for the damages, you little mischief."