Don't believe in no-win scenarios

Isidor's going to have more than a few admirers waiting when she steps out of the circle. They cluster around with light applause, each wanting to say how much they enjoyed the show, or ask how she danced among the flames without her gorgeous dress getting so much as singed.

With all that, she might be grateful when a wine glass is pressed into her hand; a voice murmurs close by, "With compliments to the lady. Dancing with immortals is thirsty work."

Hardly surprising that she can't see who gave it to her when she looks around: everyone is beaming and nodding at her. But the wine is smooth and rich and heady, strong and just a little sweet. The glass is deep, and twining up around it are a trio of red winter flowers.