That really wasn't an answer to his question, but it was obvious that talking about it made the lady uncomfortable. "My apologies, Lady Lilith," he said, "please forgive me." He wasn't even sure what he was apologizing for - but the whole situation felt awkward now, and he was supposed to be some chivalrous, knight-to-be. The awkwardness, there for, likely must have been his fault, somehow.
"My wings?" He sounded surprised and chuckled softly, "Retractable, no. They're always there... sense the day I was born. No, again, also, to the question of us all being Angels. Most of us are just normal men," he was old enough. He could be called a man, so were the teenagers he trained with, even if he had 30-40 years on most of them. He looked about the same age as them, if not a little taller.
"So am I, actually, aside from the wings, I mean... I'm not particularly spectacular." There was the Knightly humility. He was supposed to posses.
"I can fly, but I'm not allowed to do so or use them when I fight - yet. The Knights say I must master the basics yet." He grinned, the way only a mischievous boy could. "Do you want to see me fly?" He shouldn't show off. It wasn't humble. He shouldn't even be this close to her - talking to her - he was shirtless, and stank of sweat, and dirty from a few rolls on the ground. It wasn't proper to address a proper lady in such a state.
Tural stretched out his wings to their full breath and then lifted them high and thrust them down twice, on the second flap he jumped and took to the air like a bird. He flew over the fence and landed beside her. He was practically grinning ear to ear.