[She mourns the loss like she does any other, chasing after him when he moves away, using the sound of the applause and surprise to mask the little noise she makes at him. She brushes her nose against his cheek, her lashes unconsciously fluttering, and she is hard pressed to lean back in her own chair. Instead, she is far more eager to get out of here, her body feeling both warm and uncharacteristically antsy that she has to wonder if this is something to do with that smoke that still billows through the room.]

I very much think there might be.

[She stares at him for a moment longer before she's watching the others.]

There is absolutely no plausible explanation for something like that going for as much as it did, regardless of who is doing the bidding.