Iman seems to be recovering herself, which is good to see, and the brush of her lips against her skin does an effective job of banishing any lingering, uneasy thoughts of what's-his-name. The Queen's fingers curl around Iman's without any explicit orders from her brain; she isn't even fully aware that she's kept ahold of the other woman's hand. It would probably be more noticeable to lose it.

"Then I must see to it that you enjoy yourself," she replies, returning the smile. It's the least she can do, after putting Iman in what looked like an uncomfortable position. "Perhaps some refreshments?"