"No need to thank me for the truth. Really, Councilor, I feel confident you would recognize me in any dress." She fluttered her lashes jokingly.
Reaching under the table for the bottle, she poured the champagne, placing the grass in his hand, then stood a moment, considering him. Certainly, he was trying for cheer, but he seemed jittery at best, and not in a flattering or entertaining way. She remembered the way he had looked the night prior, and her own word to Altair which she had ultimately chosen not to send: my friendship is not wasted on them.
She raised her hand, brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, which showed the faint outline of worried, nervous lines. "Are you... well, Merri?" she asked softly, her tone no longer playful.