"I most certainly shall not!" Alexandrie retorts, her hands resting on her hips as she makes her way closer to the edge of the pond. "You know quite well it is stubbornly frigid in there save at the very height of summer." When, for a bare few weeks, it grudgingly turns to something like sun-warmed silk even into the evening, and is eminently perfect for...

Which he knows quite well because...

She hadn't actually thought about that before saying it, but she is now. Damn. Rather quickly, then, "and if you do not come out immediately you shall catch a chill, and perish from it, and I shall not mourn you in the slightest!"