[ He reads nervous tension in her, but nothing worse than that. It's not like he can fault her for balking at a house packed with the undead; most reasonable folks would get a little twitchy, having never met a walking skeleton before.

Or who've been on the wrong side of one. ]

I get it. If you aren't used to them, they can seem a bit... spooky.

[ His smile is small but encouraging, and he makes an absentminded gesture with his free hand, a little wiggle of the fingers at spooky. In his other he holds a glass of red wine, which goes with the undead servant but not so much with his rumpled black shirt and otherwise totally mundane appearance.

Well— there are his eyes. Fire-white on black sclera, and eerily, supernaturally unpleasant to behold. But the smile-lines around them crinkle like any man's. ]

But they're very handy servants. Well-mannered and kind to children, naughty or otherwise.