Genia had often wondered if there was anythin her Ìyá could not remedy. Thus far, she had found nothing to add to that particular list. She tucked the charmed curl neatly into place, where it remained this time, as though fearing the wrath of Ife Gbadamosi should a single strand leave its place. The debutante was satisfied it would remain thusly for as long as she needed it to.

"I am a marvel," she returned slyly to her sister, an affirmation to herself as much as it was a joke. Unlike things-that-could-not-be-remedied-by-her-grandmother, the list of Iphegenia's accomplishments was a notable one. Most importantly, though, she was an Adebayo, and while her family name did not carry the same weight in English society as the likes of Lestrange or Rowle, her family was a damn distinguished one.

"Is there anyone in particular," Genia asked of both witches, all business, "that I should ensure I make a good impression upon this evening?"