[They're both stiff, the tension holding in her shoulders as she looks back down on her friend. Her lips are thinned, but she manages a tight smile when Penelope greets her in turn. She wants to run up to her, make sure she's okay, that this place hasn't done the awful things it can sometimes do, things Eloise has already experienced first hand, but the mere fact they aren't shouting is progress.

She doesn't know how to handle it, the mix of elation and anger that still creeps on the outside of her words. Time has helped, but it is not as if she has been unaffected by Lady Whistledown even without her presence in the city.

But then Pen's words make her snort, and she shakes her head.] If Mama knew half of the things I've done today alone, I am sure not even smelling salts would lift her off the floor.

[She has come a long way in a year.]