Lyra chugged back a few scorching mouthfuls of fresh tea, not quite hot enough to burn but just hot enough that she could be annoyed about it. Though even that wasn't enough to distract from how annoyed she was at herself, which was her overriding emotion right now when it came to Archer and one she was sticking to; annoyed was so much better than dirty.
She was barely listening to Little John and Elaine talking about the mayoral candidate (she'd been glad when he lost, sure, and evidentially Little John was too, but she didn't have the headspace to focus on the our right now.) Rosario'd come over all stuttery and it wasn't hard to see why. More information. And from a source who wasn't (probably?!) gonna name drop wizards and talk about the world like it was a story, which Lyra bet had grated on Rosario.
"I can put you I touch," Little John was saying to Rosario. "Gimme a chance to check with her first, see if she's happy to talk. Speaking of," he added to Lyra, checking his phone. "Tuck is speaking very highly of Saint Patrick. He's here in the city, and I'd say he's a decent bet to start with. How do you want to do this?"
Lyra "Umm"ed hard, as stumped as before. She shook her head just a little— she had no idea, how did people go about sending Saints a message that said 'hey I think you're my father?!'
"I thought to message him first, if you like," Little John said. "Explain the sitch, see what he says? But if you'd rather, I could give you his contact details?"
"Um," said Lyra again, but this time she managed to swallow the ums down. "That," she nodded. "I mean yes, please. I should do it. Should be me." The idea was nerve-wracking, but it felt better, like she had a bit more control this way, instead of waiting on messages from anyone else.
Still, she had to shoot a glance for reassurance over to Rosario; it was better if she took control of it, right?