Cassandra, having slipped through the crowd towards him the moment she spotted him amongst the crowd, catches James being caught by one of the carnival barkers, a hand on his elbow and a musket being thrust into his hands. It suits him, even dressed as he is for Rome. But she can't help but breathe a soft, fond laugh as the barker goes about his spiel about winning something for his sweetheart.

"Come on, cheer for your beau!" It's only when the barker's eyes turn to her, in time with his words, that she realises that he apparently thinks that she's... that they're (and certainly he's known her in a more intimate way than anyone has)... her amusement turning into something more flustered. "Oh! I'm afraid you're... we're not...." She huffs a breath and composes herself. "Not that I need to be his sweetheart in order to cheer him on, of course."