How old was she? One thousand, two hundred twenty seven. But she couldn't say that. So she went with the much easier, and widely accepted answer.
"Twenty seven." She glanced up in time to catch his intent look for his pipe, she picked it up and held it out for him to take from her hand. Her eyes trailed up from his hand and to his face and for a moment she was a little lost.
She wanted to throw herself into his arms because.. because maybe Ithacles would understand. Another year without her family, another year missing Pathacles.
He would understand, but more than that.. and maybe it was the wine. But she wanted nothing more than to be closer to him.
Closer than.. She should have wanted. She pushed off the bar, but only a little. Closer into his own personal space which she suddenly didn't care much for.
"In the future, you shouldn't ask ladies those kinds of questions." She smiled widely at him, so that he knew she didn't really care. She didn't, as she hadn't given her real age at all.