Reaching up to her drink with a not-so-subtle grin tugging at the corners of her mouth, and held up her glass to Porphyria. Of all the people she'd crossed paths with in her life, Porphyria was the one whose company she'd anticipated the least to last as long as it did. But she knew the other witch's loyalties stood as steadfast as her own when it came to her friends.

They might jest about Porphyria interrogating any further suitors Amelia might have, but the redhead would not be surprised if the moment came where word reached her of a dark-haired upper-class woman that approached someone of interest to Amelia and thoroughly interrogated them without hesitation or abandon. Truth be told, Amelia herself she wasn't sure if she was highly anticipating the day or wary of it. "If it had to be you or him," Amelia said, surprised by the own certainty her voice conveyed. "I'd rather it be you."

Amelia knew she and Barnabas were just too different in the most important ways. A part of her still ached to know she'd been right in breaking off their courtship. It was all for the better that she'd realized it when she did, for she knew if they'd continued down the path they'd been heading, it would have ended how their original meeting had begun: in flames.