"No, neither you nor Lucia are invisible." Aymeric agrees, soft amusement in his voice. Sae is right, of course, but Aymeric has convinced himself that everybody who would wish to help all have full plates themselves - being the warrior of light drags Sae the length and breadth of Eorzea and beyond, and Aymeric wouldn't wish to ask yet more of him when he's already done so much, and Lucia has mostly taken over command of the temple knights and he knows well how demanding that job can be.

Still, perhaps he should give greater consideration to the support he has around him.

He turns slightly in his chair, watches Sae as he warms himself and feels a flash of guilt. He's used to the cold winters of Ishgard, but Sae is not. He makes a mental note to ensure they order more wood for the fires, wonders if he ought to buy more warm clothing for his husband, if perhaps he should be the one bringing warm drinks. The musing is interrupted by the question and he glances up, opening his mouth to reply and then closing it again.

After a long, telling moment, his shoulders slump a little in defeat.

"I must confess, you have the right of it." He admits "Though I do object to my beautiful city being termed dreary, 'tis true I have only had occasion to leave it when necessity demanded."

He's travelled as a knight, as lord commander, as lord speaker... but never as Aymeric.