[ Surely Sylvain wouldn't care to speak to her after, well, everything, and frankly, she hadn't accounted (not that she ever accounted for anything) for this. So clearly in the flowchart that is in Hilda's mind, the best course of action is to avoid it until she does.

Unfortunately she had missed the little box that reads, "Sylvain Gautier cages you in like a trapped rabbit". The bartender is quick, she'll give them that - but not quick enough. As soon as she's swiveled around with her drink to give Sylvain a cheerful farewell she's face to face with him.

A nervous laugh that's rather uncharacteristic of the girl he'd known at the Academy splutters past her lips as she pointedly leans back into the bar. The drink is in front of her face a moment later. ]

Who said anything about running away? I have an appointment to keep. And while I enjoy being fashionably late but being actually late is just plain rude. So if you could just - [ Her knee creeps up between them next, a wet foot pressing lightly against his chest in an attempt to move him. ] move, that would be great. I'm sure we can catch up later!