Despite the obvious information overload, a small smile crept upon his face. Miss Schultz had just appreciated his question again — second time, to be precise. Was he, after all, good at this? Could he possibly fit in here, a stuffy office filled with fancy people holding fancier degrees? Perhaps, he had been unreasonably judgmental towards the ministry in the past. Perhaps, he had been wrong . . .

The further Miss Schultz explained the general idea behind the symposium, the more it grew on him. An event of such caliber would require extensive planning. And by the sound of it, his boss had taken care of it considerably, leaving them to deal with the fun parts; he was impressed.

More words materialized on the whiteboard, and the list of committees caught his attention. Now, food obviously counted as fun. And so did a flying carpet station. "[B]I really admire your thoroughness, Miss Scultz," He smiled at the lady, mentally cringing at how mature he sounded. Helena would probably tease him about it; he was simply trying to be civilized. Merlin knew how he much he wanted to drop the act, and just be himself.

Was he annoying her with his questions? Hopefully not, for he had another one at the ready for her. "I am just wondering, do we get to vote?" He asked, both eyebrows lifted. Probably not, he thought.