Ida was usually hedgy about these society parties, but this one was supposed to be fun. The candy theme was a bit childish, but she was excited for a chance to see some highlights from the ballet everyone raved about. She was just as thrilled for a chance to celebrate with her friends, too. To pretend things haven’t changed since graduating. But one was trapped in France, and the other three… were busy taking their responsibility to be betrothed seriously, it seemed. Poppy, she expected. Tillie to a degree, too. But et tu, June? She hadn't mentally prepared for this yet. And it seemed serious, gauging by the body language of her friend, her father, and the prospective suitor across the ballroom. Ida found herself working very hard to not let her face show palpable dislike for the match. Flint was… fine. And women entered into all sorts of strange agreements with men in the name of freedom, she’d come to learn. This was probably June’s best shot to have everything her heart desired, though the girls never really talked about it, or about Flint. It never came up. Ida tried to not be offended that it never came up. Was it because June knew it’d make her upset? I’m not upset, she reminded herself.

At least she had enough sense to bring her fan tonight– better to hide her expression when she sensed her lips were stuck in their downward slant. She should be happy for June. For Tillie too, who wouldn’t waste Felix’s time the way Ida invariably would. And Ida was, in the end, happy for them. As long as their courtships ended in marriages that gave them all the privileges they so desperately longed for, she’d be happy for them. Even if it took a bit of extra sherry to wash the bitterness down.

Ida was contemplating acquiring a glass of just that when a familiar voice brought her out of her brooding. She turned towards the source of it. “Mister Greengrass! Fancy seeing you here,” she greeted, a bit surprised that he seemed so chipper. Right-- not everyone's world is crumbling tonight. In any case, his presence was amicable enough to bring the first genuine smile to her face this evening. The witch snapped her fan shut, holding it in folded hands (there were all sorts of messages one can say with these things, apparently, none of which she ever remembered). “I missed Clem,” she noted, perhaps still a touch strategic in her glance around for his sister. But honestly, at this point she’d spoken more to Clem’s brother than she had to her peer almost all year. And Mister Greengrass wasn’t that bad, she decided. At least she hadn’t picked up on any overbearing inclinations that he wanted anything from her but a nice conversation. Finally, someone she had something in common with (or so she hoped).

With a faint smirk at the comment of lollipops, Ida shrugged. “Not yet, I only just got here. Though I was pondering the best route to take towards the refreshments, if you’d like to join me on the journey?”

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