Coy. Sly. Deceptive. They were fairly gentle descriptors for Cordelia, when compared to some of the other things she'd been called resulting from her little flights of whimsy. Duncan shook her hand and had kept his head though, so regardless of what he may have thought of her privately, she figured him a decent enough sort, at first impression. "Well met," she said simply as he eyed her. Her freckled, often stoney face lightened with a thin smile. "Me, this time." A guess, but it was a look she knew well.
Taking her hand back, Delia crossed her arms and shifted her attention back to the crowd, watching a fire eater across the way, then eyeing the passageway Duncan had been staring at when she'd interrupted him.
She gave a solemn, proud nod. "Of course. Live long enough, and if you've not learned to take pleasure in the little things ..." She chuffed air, arching a brow. "You're doing something wrong. Tell me you don't enjoy some of your abilities. I won't believe you."