Winifred, like her mother, blushes; like her mother, it's blotchy. She does not giggle and hide her gaze, though; instead, she grins at Benedict, and grabs her mother's hand, and gives a little flip of her dark hair.

"It's our pleasure," says Nadine. And then her smile weakens a little bit as she looks at her brother. And she says, "I can't believe - What a life you've led. It seems impossible." And then, finally, with her free hand, she reaches out for Byerly's. "And even more impossible that, after all that, you'd come here."

By hesitates. Nadine marks that hesitation and quails just a bit, her hand retreating very slightly. But then By reaches out to take that hand; he hooks his fingers into hers.

"I thought you might detest me," he confesses. "For everything." She starts to shake her head at once, and he confesses: "For leaving."

"I thought you might detest me for not following," she answers. "I thought about it so often, but never did it, and all I could think was he must think I'm such a coward - "

"Mom's not a coward," says Winifred fiercely. The ferocity is not directed at anyone in particular amongst this group; she seems to simply want the universe to know. One she's finished that declaration, she goes back to making eyes at Benedict.

"But I'm so glad that - Oh, Maker, I'm so glad to see you're not lonely." Nadine, having squeezed her daughter's hand, squeezes Byerly's hand and turns her eyes on Bastien. "He's as handsome as you said." And then, in country-accented, ill-formed, but fluent Orlesian: "I know that you must be a happy man. Bally is so kind. I know he must be good to you."