He did know she was dead, and knew just enough about her situation--and the Fey in general--to be concerned for her well being and safety. But physical differences aside, she certainly seemed like she was still his Night Sky.

And also like she didn't particularly want to talk about things beyond the present--also unsurprising. Maybe later, then. "I apologize for making you wait," he murmured against her lips, bring his other hand up to her face and deepening the next kiss, making a soft sound at the taste of her on his tongue. That was different, too, subtly. He didn't mind. Differences just meant new things to discover and rediscover.