“Oh–” So they were sitting, then. She attributed his hasty move towards the table as a gentleman being a gentleman, which means making sure the damsel has a seat. Ordinarily, she might warily read into this gesture. But Ida noticed nothing amiss about Mister Greengrass, and for her part, she felt much too cheerful to be dour. Something attributed to the ambiance, excitement for the show, and conversation as much as the drink, perhaps. “Thank you,” she settled comfortably into her seat, and graced her drink with another sip. The last one for now, she decided.

“Well Christmas dinner is the best part,” she pointed out sagely. Gifts were nice and all, but she was quite partial to Christmas ham and roasted chestnuts. At the mention of the dragon smugglers she laughed, shaking her head at once. “I saw that,” being that she was a voracious reader of the paper. “And I will not confirm or deny your question, sir. I don’t yet know if I can trust you with all my secrets,” she playfully admonished. In fact she ought to trust him with none of her secrets, but in this case her grin conveyed this was said in jest.

The woman then waved her hand haphazardly, “I transfigured all our garlands into water dragons, and charmed them to fly all around the house,” she confided. “Our Christmas tree had all types of dragon figurines on it, which Tao got to keep for his playthings. I rigged our fireplace to look like a dragon’s mouth spitting fire, and changed the goblets and dishware and everything into dragon heads too, in keeping with the theme– hah, it sounds ridiculous,” she reflected now, given all the grief she gave the hosts about this winter candyland. “I suppose you could say our decor was less fit to greet jolly Saint Nick, and more appropriate for a fierce dragon keeper? Anyhow, my brother loved it, and that’s all that I really wanted.”

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