Alfred considered the man across the table with suspicion. It did not really fit with what he thought he knew about Julian Fisk for him to care about anything in Alfred's life except as it pertained to Zelda, and that comment about not hating him certainly didn't track. If it was going to be anyone, though, it might as well have been Julian — he was one of the siblings who had never been openly hostile, more just — well, perhaps a bit uncomfortable about the whole thing, was really the impression that Alfred got. Still, he wasn't going to just let his guard down; he had a lot to lose if he made a poor choice in trusting Julian Fisk. But then, maybe he had something to gain, too, if Julian was being sincere — he did plan to make this man his brother-in-law, after all.

But that didn't mean he knew where to start. "Well, thanks," he said, uncertainly. "I'm glad to hear it, I suppose." But as for what Zelda would think of him being miserable right now... well, Zelda didn't know, and she probably never would, but what would she think if she did know? Alfred looked down at his beer and idly ran his index finger along the rim. If she knew what he'd almost done yesterday, he suspected Zelda might be just fine with him being a little miserable, at least for a while. Proper penance.

"I wouldn't speak for Zelda," he said, against his better judgement. He should have just kept his mouth shut about this — took the win about Julian not hating him at face value and changed the subject. He knew he wasn't going to be able to think about anything else, though, so it wasn't much use trying to talk about anything else. "You don't know what it is I'm miserable about. And neither does she."