“Prime Minister?” Lydia pursed her lips to the side as she made her way over. “I - my name is Lydia Caine, and I’m a researcher at the BBC - I’m not here on assignment, to be clear,” she raised her hands up, offered him a smile, “but I - well, I suppose I’d know who you were even if I wasn’t in the media.” She shook her head.
“I promise I’m not usually this much of a disaster when introducing myself.” Though perhaps she’d have to ask Graham if she’d been close to this when she’d first met him. “Are you enjoying the party? You’re Prince Charles, correct?” Lydia offered up another small smile, “I didn’t choose anyone specific to be, but I figured it wasn’t an obligation, right?” She tapped her fingertips against her nearly-empty champagne glass. “Anyhow, I suppose this is all just to say hello, and that I promise I’m not weird or anything, even though perhaps the over-explaining makes me seem such. Uh - you can just call me Lydia, by the way. If you want. I’ve been called Miss Caine before and it still freaks me out.”
@augustfinley
