Mistakes like these have been the bane of Tyrion's existence as of late, and the whole not knowing things does get on his nerves. "I'd still think a daughter baron would have some other title other than mistress." Tyrion lifts a hand up to stroke his beard, and he gives his chin an itch. Oh, how the horrid thing itched, and he looks forward to the day for when he can get rid of it.

"I can assure you, that even if our worlds are different that the nobles of your world drink heavily. And it would also explain how very little gets done." Tyrion purses his lips together and he takes a sip of his wine. And he does take hint of the teasing.

His eyes dart between hers and down towards the lion's head ring on his finger. And it is dawning on him that he can very well call himself Lord of House Lannister if he so well pleases, he hasn't seen neither his brother nor his spiteful sister anywhere in this weird place. "That it does. And please, don't call me Lord. Tyrion will do. And if you're looking for the formalities of the titles of my world, Lord Tyrion of House Lannister and Hand of the Queen." Oh, how those words make him smile, and oh how does enough wine loosen one's lips and sense of judgment.

"So who might I have the honor to speaking with, my mistress?"