Illya's reminder catches Simon mid-flip, and he fumbles the lighter. It's cheap, plastic, and an extremely inappropriate shade of neon orange, which stands out all the brighter on the very formal rug. He blushes, scrambling to collect it. He's really outdoing himself tonight, isn't he?

"They'd probably turn me to stone before I managed to get anything to light," he says once it's safely back in his suit pocket, his cheeks still quite pink.

"Though with the way things are going I might be lucky to make it out of here at all."