Dante reached out, taking her hand in his, but instead of shaking it he flipped it over, palm down, and kissed the back in a gentlemanly way. "You may blame my parents for that," he said with a small grin. He released her hand; no need to seem too forward. "Yes, this is my army," he said, unable to keep the pride and affection out of his voice. "We march into battle tomorrow, but I promise you it will be well away from here," he said, hoping to soothe her apparent concern. "We have children in this camp, after all, and to fight a battle so near to them is reckless."