Trevelyan welcomed the attention, for once; her instincts were well-trained toward laying low these days, but this was a party, after all, and she ought to be having fun. The stranger had touched on some of her own thoughts about the event, anyway. "Yes, I suppose I am. A prize for every partygoer and no cover charge? Who could resist?"
She took a long drink from her mug. On reaching the refreshments earlier she had quickly taken in the hot chocolate, spiked eggnog, and what looked like a nice mulled wine, and had mixed them all into an unholy abomination of a beverage that actually didn't taste half bad. Perhaps a little higher on the acidity than this mug was meant to handle, though; she could swear the nice little painting on the bottom was a little more worn-looking than before, though it might just be the cloudiness of the mug's contents.
"This is all I'm intending to do so far," she said, "if nothing interferes with my lack of plans. I've had a busy year. I'd like to relax, or try to. What about you? Doing anything fun once the party's over?
*
Steed didn't make eye contact with Albany, or even really look directly at her, as she approached. Futile as an act of avoidance, but it made him feel a little better. And he had an inkling that it might amuse her.
"I'm surprised to see you here," he said. "Though why I would still be surprised by anything you do, I can't imagine." He eyed her sidelong. She looked more or less as he remembered her, which was reassuring in its way. This far on the memory of their meeting had taken on a dreamlike quality that he'd expected to remain. Certainly he'd never imagined they would meet again.
Well, there was no reason to be rude—never mind that he already had been, or that he wasn't sure Albany defined rudeness the way most people did—he ought to make some effort at conversation. "Have you tried the gingerbread? It's impressive. Particularly for tavern food."