The rest of their conversation goes so smoothly that Greta almost marvels at it. But then again, it's hard to remain nervous when you've already stumbled into every awkward pitfall possible within the first five minutes. Buoyed by the relief of being past it all, it's much easier to just talk, without getting hung up on the fact that he's a Baronet who could probably do a whole lot better than a baker's former wife.
That particular hang-up returns full force when he invites her to Magnus Bane's holiday party. She received the invitation as she had all the others -- and, like all the others, she'd assumed the proverbial 'everyone' didn't include her. 'Everyone' was invited to the King's Festival, too; that didn't mean everyone presumed to go.
"I--" she huffs out a laugh and sits back, shaking her head in bewilderment. "I've never been to one. They're not..."
How does she even explain this? He's probably been on the guest list of every party within a hundred miles, back in his world. Baronets go places that Bakers never would. For a moment, she almost resents the invitation, no matter how well-intentioned it might be, because now she has to do this. She has to bloody well spell it out for him, when it's something that, frankly, he should already know.
"They're not for the likes of me," she explains, cheeks prickling. "'Everyone' never really means everyone."
Even as she says it, a small part of her objects that she's not being fair to Magnus; they get on well enough, and she can't imagine he'd turn her away at the door. But still.
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That particular hang-up returns full force when he invites her to Magnus Bane's holiday party. She received the invitation as she had all the others -- and, like all the others, she'd assumed the proverbial 'everyone' didn't include her. 'Everyone' was invited to the King's Festival, too; that didn't mean everyone presumed to go.
"I--" she huffs out a laugh and sits back, shaking her head in bewilderment. "I've never been to one. They're not..."
How does she even explain this? He's probably been on the guest list of every party within a hundred miles, back in his world. Baronets go places that Bakers never would. For a moment, she almost resents the invitation, no matter how well-intentioned it might be, because now she has to do this. She has to bloody well spell it out for him, when it's something that, frankly, he should already know.
"They're not for the likes of me," she explains, cheeks prickling. "'Everyone' never really means everyone."
Even as she says it, a small part of her objects that she's not being fair to Magnus; they get on well enough, and she can't imagine he'd turn her away at the door. But still.