It's true that for all his nerves, the moment he gets started, it all falls away. Istredd has never really shown off to this extent before, to a point where he could cover an entire ballroom with illusions as easy as breathing. After all that time without his Chaos, he did need this. There is actual joy in him as he watches it all come alive, as if he remembers now that magic wasn't always about necessity. Sometimes he truly does love to be a mage. Yennefer craves the power of Chaos, but Istredd craves the beauty of it.

For someone who usually avoids attention, Istredd allows himself a good fifteen seconds or so of smiling at the applause and soaking in the approval. Then he is moving aside for someone else to take the spotlight and beelines straight for Lucifer. He did keep himself intentionally from noticing his partner, just in case, but he feels good.

"What, hiding under your bed wasn't my element?" Istredd grins at him and they're in public again so he doesn't touch him obviously. He leans against the wall next to him instead and then bumps his shoulder in a way that would be friendly if it wasn't the after now.

"I've never done that without feeling under the scrutiny of the wrong person." He means Stregobor, who taught him, whose approval of Istredd's skill was always narcissistic. "Until now." Until you.