Archer canted his head to the side just slightly when Saber’s eyes dropped from his face to his chest. The armor definitely molded to the shapes underneath, silver lining roughly outlining his muscular. With the other’s eyes averted, Archer let his own do a light flick towards the smaller Servant’s throat, where the hem of his collar blocked any view of what may lay beneath it. What was with that hum anyways…

“I consider those two interchangeable,” Archer retorted dismissively. Which, honestly, he did. Honor was a fickle thing and in reality, most warriors would be wise to focus on their goals rather than attempt to adhere to strict rules that others didn’t hold to. It ended up being detrimental to their success and oftentimes made them come across as egotistical, stuck up brats. See? Direct correlation in his opinion.

As Saber lowered a little, but kept that distance—what little of it there was—between them, Archer offered a single breath of amusement. “True, if this alliance is in our future, I might have to reconsider my opinion of you.” But that’s all he was giving him. That reconsidering could go both ways: positive or negative. As for what Saber thought of him, Archer didn’t really care one way or another of people’s opinion of him. He had better things to concern his attention with.

“I assume knightly chivalry says little about personal space?” Just to jibe him something random.