There it was. Wanda felt a thrill of victory as all her suspicions were confirmed in an instant. The slight limp, the ready agreement about the importance of qualities beyond sheer strength. It was all sliding nicely into place. She was feeling inordinately pleased with herself and the answering smile she offered him was bright and genuine. Wanda was rapidly constructing a portrait of who this charming, oh-so solicitous stranger was. The fact that she was, oddly enough, rather enjoying his company only made the process of figuring him out easier. It would have been torture--although one she would have undertaken readily--to try and plumb the depths of someone like Stark or President Stane. Loki might have the mark of the Capitol firmly imprinted on him, but Wanda had felt brief moments of understanding pass between them. Even now, she didn't fail to notice how he still kept a watchful eye on his brother.
It didn't profit her to go down that particular road, however. Or to start thinking what Pietro would have made of this party, how he would have conducted himself. Probably better than she was doing, actually. Shoving these painful thoughts roughly away, Wanda recollected herself in time to tilt her glass slightly in Loki's direction, aiding him in pouring the wine. Something in the neighborhood of amusement floated through her as she noted the quantity he had poured. Was this an unexpected show of concern? How different he was from the other men she had mingled with that night, who kept trying to press another drink on her before she had even finished with her first one. And never simple wine--always strangely colored concoctions that reminded her grotesquely of drinks from the arena.
"I hope so." She met his gaze openly, as if she had nothing to hide. But then she paused for a moment, considering her next words and the wisdom of uttering them. But truly, what harm could there be in being forward? If he found her presumptuous, he would take it as just a sign that she really was the over-awed, slightly uncouth, girl from District Three. And who knew, he might actually have advice. And even if he didn't, asking for advice seemed often to engender goodwill in others. He seemed like the kind of man who would appreciate being seen as an expert.
"Actually... I'm hoping to spend more time in the Capitol than just a few days of touring and a visit to the spa," she confessed almost shyly, clutching the wine glass a bit too tightly in her hand. ""You know of course that Natasha's was my mentor, and you can see how much of a home she's made for herself here. I'd... I'd like to do the same."