What shocks him the most: that she touches him, stands near to him, or speaks to him with such undisguised hope in her voice and eyes? He's stunned (momentarily, at least) into guileless silence, and stares back at her with widened pale eyes; a bit like an expression a much younger man might wear if suddenly caught up in the arms of his very first paramour.

(He may be an unrepentant heretic, but he's not a particularly worldly one. He is a priest, after all.)

"You too?" she says at last, after a string of incomprehensible Haguennot, and that breaks the spell. He loosens his fingers from their curled fist, and some of the tension in the air eases around them. A wry smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth, and for a moment he very much resembles the cat who got the cream. He could try to free his arms from her grip, if he wanted to. He doesn't.

"You sound surprised," he replies, and has the audacity to sound almost sly about it.