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Quinn was handsomely underdressed, but when you were the star of the party you could get away with dressing as demure or as outlandish as you wanted. Lyra might have had a bit of experience with that sort of thing, more so the latter. She wasn’t one for anything too out there, fashion-wise, but if it didn’t turn heads then honestly what was the point? As it wasn’t her turn in the spotlight – a ghastly thought but something she strove to remain conscious of – she opted for a slightly more reserved gown for the evening, a simple black, floor length number that Quinn seemed fond of. She had spent a good amount of their earlier conversation talking to her tits, so it was fair to say he approved of her dress.

Lyra was impossibly proud of Quinn and his art, and she knew it was important to him that she be there tonight – not that she had any plans to be elsewhere. She was happy to hang on his arm for a while and play the part of trophy witch for a bit, but the limelight was calling her and she quickly shuffled off to chat up some reporters who had come to cover the show for their respective papers. Her name always drew the reader’s attention, especially after the kidnapping incident, and she was happy to use her fame to bring a little extra attention to Quinn and his fabulous work. They were something of a power couple and she rather liked it. A waiter passed her by and she held up a finger to the reporter she’d been chatting with, then gave the waiter a little summoning wave. “The artist will be wanting some of those.” She pointed over to where Quinn had just been roped into a conversation by a person with their back to Lyra, obscuring their identity if only for a moment. “It is his big night, after all. Be a doll and make sure my handsome beau gets his fill.” She shooed the waiter away as she turned back to the reporter, who’s quill was busy jotting down notes. Lyra caught the words “mental connection” and “adoring couple”.

Having hidden away her new little niece or nephew’s outfit in the back of her wardrobe, Lyra gave herself a quick look over in the mirror. She straightened the neckline of her shirt and smoothed out the minor wrinkles that had formed on the front of her skirt. Turning, Lyra checked out her backside and smiled, blowing her reflection a kiss.

She had not been expecting company, but there were a handful of people who never needed to announce themselves before a visit. Her loved ones were always welcome for a pop in, so long as she looked well enough to receive them, which of course she nearly always did. She was a master at quick changes, an absolute must for the theatre, and she only took her makeup off right before going to bed, not wanting to risk needing to pop out for something and having to go through the whole process all over again. She would absolutely die if she were caught by the paparazzi’s cameras without makeup on.

“Coooomiiing,” she sang as she trotted happily to the front of her flat, curious as to who her guest would be. Looking through the peephole, Lyra was assaulted by an enormous arrangement of lilies. They were so large that she couldn’t see the person holding them. Excitedly, she smoothed her hair and straightened herself up, expecting to open the door to Quinn. She slide the lock chain from its channel and let it dangle, taking hold of the handle and turning it as she pulled the door open. “Well hello,” she said in a flirty tone as she opened the door, stopping shortly after having realized it was not Quinn at her doorstep. It wasn’t any one of the people Lyra would have expected to see at her door. Her confusion was visible as she stared at the man a moment longer than was probably smart to do, then she slowly pushed the door so that it wasn’t open as wide as she had originally pulled it to be.

Lyra recognized the man as one of the people from the Winchester Playhouse, and automatically assumed this was the director’s way of trying to persuade Lyra into taking the lead role that she had turned down. “If this Eugene’s attempt to get me to do the show, you can tell him that he’ll have to try harder than mere flowers to win me over.”

Lyra’s relationship with Quinn was progressing nicely and she was enjoying her time with him. February, she had been rather busy with her play to which there were rumors she’d be nominated for an Olivier Award, but she made time for Quinn to attempt a Valentine’s Day fuss. They’d only seen each other a few times by then, so she wasn’t expecting too much, despite her siblings’ claims that she was “high maintenance” but he had pleasantly surprised her and made a good enough impression that continuing a relationship with him was firmly planted in her mind. More importantly than Valentine’s Day was her birthday, which he exceeded in expectation, and not to be outdone, Lyra returned the favor for his own birthday a few weeks later. He was older – which she liked – and had his own group of mates that she didn’t try to worm her way into, but she enjoyed being shown off to as many of Quinn’s friends as he wanted. Anyone wanting to fawn over her was most welcomed to.

March saw her attending one of Quinn’s mate’s daughter’s birthday parties, an extravagant affair that also doubled as something of a coming out for the new couple. Their small world of the magical social elite was made that much smaller by the fact that her very own sister, Lilith, had married into the Lestrange family and was now the aunt to Quinn’s mate Rodolphus’ daughter. All of their families had been invited to the soiree, which in turn invited many unwelcomed intrusions into her and Quinn’s relationship. Lucian seemed exceptionally put out by the news, but he had his own family to worry about and Lyra told him as much when he attempted to lecture Lyra on the woes of dating older men – a not-so-subtle code for Lyra intruding into his social circle. She made a point of being seen in public with her new beau more often after that.

Taking up a three-month contract for singing at the Ambrosia Lounge, Lyra was forced to forgo a starring role in a new production that was set to open end of summer at Pendragon. The proposed schedules would have left her with absolutely no personal time to herself between the theatre and her concerts, and her apparent celebrity status wasn’t enough to get the show’s rehearsals pushed several months later to accommodate her. She was rather put out by it all, but there was nothing to be done about it if she wanted even a moment to herself during the lovely Spring months. Moreover, she was happy to spend a little time with Quinn, and stirring up the paparazzi with their courtship managed to keep her starlet persona in the limelight well enough. Being seen in public shopping for baby clothes today also helped to fuel the flames of publicity, though she was shopping for her sister’s future little one. Lilith and Rabastan had privately announced that they were expecting not long ago, and Lyra had spent the day with her little sister, Liv, shopping and gossiping.

Standing in front of her wardrobe, Lyra parted her clothes to make room to tuck a little shopping bag away in the back of her closet. There were two little outfits in the bag; an adorable little purple and pink swirled infant’s robe with silver glittered speckled throughout the material that replicated a dreamy twilight sky, and a handsome little green robe with printed frogs in wizards’ hats. She didn’t know whether she was going to have a nephew or a niece, and wanted to be prepared for either when the time came. As she hid her shopping, she heard what sounded like a knock at her front door. Unconcerned with the potential for intruders in her secure building, Lyra called to the unknown visitor. “I’m in the bedroom, I’ll be right out.”

Gorgeous, semi naked men dancing in the center of a room full of well dressed, respectable ladies. It was perfect, and judging from Lilith’s expression, Lyra had thus far done well with her duties as a bridesmaid. The entertainment was the easy part of the night, it was keeping to Lilith’s high expectations for more than 20 minutes that would be the challenging part but thankfully Lyra was not alone in this endeavor. Liv had her part in the evening’s events, the drinks and appetizers being superbly done. Lyra finished a glass of champagne and found a waitress with a full tray to swap her glass out. She could hear Livvi hollering next to her at the oiled up men, and Lyra joined in, demanding they “Take it off” and a few other lude comments Lyra wouldn’t normally be caught dead speaking aloud in mixed company. The music was upbeat and she couldn’t help but bounce along to it, watching her sister’s flushed face just beyond the bare arse cheeks of a tan man who was shaking his hammocked junk in Lilith’s direction. A few of the other women were making remarks about shagging the men and Lyra laughed, sipping her drink between hoots and hollers, not bothering to spoil the mood by letting on that the majority of the strippers were in fact gay, but if the money was right, she wouldn’t put it past a few to take a witch into the back room and please her.

Perfectly shaped eyebrows raised in amusement as Cutie insinuated she was trying to pick him up. His accent was thick and she recognized it right away as definitively Irish. There were certain accents Lyra couldn’t help but adore, a French accent on a woman, a Spanish accent on a man. This Irish accent was definitely a perk of being able to hear Cutie better, and she appreciated that he was quick witted enough to call her our on her overused line, despite her being completely sincere in her question. “Heard it a thousand times, or used it? At least I don’t go ‘round smashing ladies’ shoes as an opener. If I want to buy someone a drink, I just buy it.” She flashed a dazzling smile at him as she waved her fingers delicately at the bartender to catch his attention. “Dirty martini,” she said as the bartender walked to their part of the bar, her eyes still on Cutie trying to figure out where she knew him from. He looked a bit older, and while she’d been out of school several years now, it wasn’t so long ago that she thought she’d forget a face like that had they shared any lessons or even a common room. Perhaps he was one of Lilith’s ex-boyfriends, or a mate of Lucian’s. Or he was just a really attractive bloke and Lyra’s brain was trying to justify her spending any time with him when she’d only come here to unwind. “So, did it hurt?” she asked Cutie, looking down at his feet – which clearly struggled to keep him moving straight on the dance floor – then back up to his light eyes, “when you feel from Heaven?” This time it was a chat up line, and a damned cheesy one at that, but he wasn’t the only one who could be funny.

The conversation dwindled to mime-work and Lyra smiled, giving a soft unheard laugh as Cutie gestured that he was going to the bar and had apparently been trying to invite her. Bloody loud music, it was excellent for forgetting your cares and dancing the night away but now she was wishing for something at a little more reasonable volume so she could actually hear this bloke. It would be so disappointing to flirt with such a handsome man only to get him home and discover he had an effeminate voice. He wouldn’t be the first man to have their sex-god status shattered by a girlish speaking voice but he was so attractive, Lyra really hoped this wasn’t the case.

She followed along the short distance off the dancefloor and over to the bar where the music was a little less intense. They’d still have to use raised voices to be heard but she was certain she’d be able to keep up a conversation with him here, so long as he was capable of having a conversation. If he was, perhaps she’d suggest they go out to the patio where the music would be even more dulled and they could really flirt properly but this was good for now. She wasn’t planning on having another drink so early in the evening, but Cutie was offering and she supposed it wouldn’t hurt to speed things up a bit, so long as she didn’t have anymore after that.

Lyra admired his rear as she followed him to the bar and a nagging feeling came over her that she’d admired him bum before. But where? She slid into an opening at the bar next to Cutie and leaned against the edge of the bar top, looking more thoughtfully at his face. “Have we met before?” she asked, her voice raised slightly but finding she didn’t need to yell in this part of the club. It sounded like a pick up line. Had he said it to her she would have rolled her eyes at him and walked away, because men were rarely sincere when they asked that question but now that she was paying more attention he really did look familiar.