Sybella watched his spellwork as he conjured a crystal goblet. It was quite a beautiful piece of work, one that would go well with the nice amber-burgundy of the cognac. She would have been insulted that he questioned her picking out a good bottle of cognac, however because he had no inclination of who she was, deigned to forgive him. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t know she’d known how to pick out a good cognac since she was in her first years of Incantima. Or that her family’s cellars were nearly prolific.

“I don’t believe in being petty,” she commented, tapping the bottle with her wand to make it levitate and pour into the two glasses he’d conjured. “If someone has done something to anger me, I see no point in trying to be stealthy about my revenge. They could be completely idiotic and not understand the message.” What a waste of time and energy that would be.

With the glasses having been poured, the bottle corked itself and floated down to sit by the back legs of her chair against the wall. “I don’t believe so. Sybella Capobianco.” She provided, looking up at her new acquaintance with a soft smile.