[ He looks up, nervous - but she seems genuinely interested, not like she's leading him into some sort of trap. Getting him to confess who he really is or something. So he nods a bit. ]

Yeah. Uh - all of them, really. Years of them. The Emperor's Birthday, Winterfair, Midsummer. Since the start of the Bu - Of your husband's regency. And beyond. And before.

[ He was well-trained on those, since they'd be where he'd have the best chance of killing the Emperor. ]