Lyra was slowing losing color, her polite smile completely fixed. Only two bright pink spots of color, of raised blood pressure, gave anything away. Her face only ever betrayed her like this when she was truly and irrevocably upset and trying to keep it in.
She saw the anxiety on the other woman's face, in the admission they hadn't been married long. It only made the whole situation that much harder. It was also somehow cutting to her pride that he didn't even remember her face.
"No, I am definitely not mistaking you for someone else. I was drunk enough to forget your name, but not your face," she said, her voice somehow melodic but still somehow out of tune.
She heard a throat cleared somewhere in thrbackground, unmistakably the throat of her supervisor.
"But please, I'm intruding on your dinner. Pursue the menus at your leisure. Ma'am, do you prefer a red or a white tonight?" She asked. For some reason she wanted to apologize to this woman somehow, because she hadn't thought there would be anyone else involved in thus at all. She had never let herself consider the scenario.