[ Ferdinand has struggled, historically, to get through to people who struggle with their self-esteem. His first, clumsy efforts to make Bernadetta comfortable in Garreg Mach, for instance, earned him a sprained wrist. His attempts to cheer up Marianne had been similarly disastrous, albeit not physically so. Perhaps seeing Manuela as he has for so long has made him similarly poorly equipped to navigate her feelings, and hearing her reject his sentiments so casually stings his pride more than he'd care to admit.

His expression, then, must be truly puzzled as she tries to rationalize what he's saying. He tires to get a word in edgewise, but he's not able to until she pulls him aside. ]

A spell? I assure you, Manuela, I am perfectly of my own mind right now.

[ Still, the easiest thing for him to do is to allow her to tug his hand away and follow the momentum to the edge of his bed, where he takes a seat as directed. He furrows his brow, frustrated with his inability to convince her that everything he felt and everything he said was genuine. ]

I know there are substances here that can make someone more... amorous. But even if I were under their effect now, which I do not think I am, it would not matter.

[ He looks up at her from the bed, not trying to look like a scolded puppy, but probably resembling one all the same. ]

Everything that happened between us... for me, that was entirely natural. The only aphrodisiac I needed was you.