He arched a brow, turning his head to look at her. The small smirk curling the corner of his mouth was probably enough to convey to her what he would’ve said if he’d been in more of a joking mood: That he should bloody well hope she was glad, if she was still here. She accepted his invitation, after all, and it wasn’t even on pain of death.
But, he wasn’t in enough of a joking mood, so instead he had a sip of his mulled wine, nodded, and returned his attention to the crowd, people-watching.
A little chuckle left her as he turned back to the crowd. She took the opportunity to rest her head against his shoulder, sighing contentedly aloud. “I’ve needed this. Gods, I’ve needed this. Just a chance to relax for a bit, you know?” She stretched out, flexing her fingertips and cracking her joints, then rubbing warmth into her arms. “I’m a damn mess at the shop lately. Keep forgetting little things. Overworked, I think, and this is the best possible cure.”
She accepted a tankard of - something, anyway - from a passing tray and grinned, lifting it in cheers. “The only time I as a healer can recommend getting properly sloshed without feeling guilty.”
