It had been the ardent hope of Fitzroy Prewett that he might slip away unnoticed, write to his mother while berthed in Spain or something equally exotic, to tell her of his departure after the fact. Unfortunately, her invitation for luncheon the following week had demanded a response, and the sending of regrets had demanded an excuse and now here he was, faced with Harriet Prewett in the flesh and duty bound to offer her tea even though what he wanted was for his mother to leave. Surely Faustus did not face this degree of their mother's special brand of affection?

"Will they?" the wizard asked in genuine surprise before swiftly—but likely not swiftly enough—schooling his expression into one of polite disinterest. In truth, he had given limited thought as to who would actually be on the boat, instead focusing upon the adventure of it. But if Miss Zabini was to be on board, well, that could mean a whole different sort of adventure...

"I am sure a great many fashionable people saw it their mission to secure a cabin; I am no doubt fortunate to have made inquiries rather early."