A smile tugs at her painted lips as she tilts her wine glass to them, taking a moment to savor the red wine. There is a plate of madeleines in the center of the table between you next to a vase of roses, making the air smell sweet.

It's after the World Meeting and France herself had suggested the two of you have lunch together, both tired of the ruckus from the meeting, that, admittedly, France caused some herself.

"It's a lovely afternoon, non? A certain je ne sais quoi." She leans forward.