Lauralae does not know the nature of who Lucifer claims to be, beyond 'devil' - in her world, that is a natural thing, a race to whom she can converse, speak, a language well learned. In this strange house with its many strange people, he is a man who permits her touch and welcomes her voice, and that speaks volumes enough to anyone who might come to know her. The fact that she permits him liberty with her thought and skin is enough to recognise her liking for him.

The shock of being bared comes swiftly all the same, her eyes widening and her arms jerking on instinct to try and cover herself. It's not as though there is a tremendous amount to show off, given her small breasts and pale skin, but she's blushing, shifting to turn into Armand with a pretty pout that looks almost deliberate, if she had the inkling.

"I could not say," she admits, voice low and quiet, suddenly shy in the moment. "He has shown me kindness, but that does not mean anything." It might be false, lacking genuine sweetness, and she could not know either way. Men have blinded her before with honey words and sweet kisses.