She pauses, whatever she was either about to say or think flies clean out the proverbial window. Her eyes are wide, and she does not yet comprehend that all the generations between her era and this woman's descend from her specifically. The fact alone that her line has lasted well... like as not nearer to a thousand years than not is naught short of astounding.

"My descendant?" naught had been set in stone, not truly. His mother had been against it, and so was she for many a reason. but she does well in keeping herself from going pale, and laughs a little, even, at her quip. "That is naught short as incredible. It may not be bad form, but as I have yet to bear children of my own, people might look at us as if we were daft."

There is a mischievous light in her eyes and then she laughs again, despite herself. This is wondrous.