When the party has died down, Isabella, for one, is well and truly exhausted. She explores the palace until she finds a room with a bed in it, and into this bed she flops, still in her clothes and holding her staff and carrying the cordial in her pocket. She sleeps late, because the party kept her up so late and she hadn't really slept the night before; but around noon, she stirs, and gets up, and goes looking for James and wherever her backpack may have got to. The backpack she finds in the great hall where the principal mass of the party was; some enterprising creature took both bags from the battlefield at Beruna up to the castle for them, and she only wishes she knew who it was. She takes her bag to her room and carries James's with her and continues looking for her friend.
Winter doesn't notice her at first, being too busy laughing, and then as his giggles fade he proceeds to be too busy eating dinner.
"Upstairs. I was going to tell you something about one of my Christmas presents that's relevant to you but then I was surprised."
"I asked - you didn't already tell him, did you? If you're going to tell him yourself there's no point in me interrupting," Isabella says, switching to addressing Father Christmas.
"And you said no, I'd wager."
Father Christmas nods.
"Wonderful," mutters Winter. "Merry Christmas to me."
And she goes upstairs again to bed with her spouse.
James is sleepy but not quite asleep; she snuggles up cozily when Isabella arrives.
"...I'll think about that in the morning," she decides. Snuggle snuggle. Snuggle snuggle sleep.
"...I guess a picnic was the best present Father Christmas could give him?"
"Maybe. I assume it hasn't happened before, but maybe this year Winter would finally welcome the visit?"
"Maybe... I bet Father Christmas would've had a hard time bringing him a picnic while he was being crushed under a rock, too, for that matter."
"Yeah. And back when Jadis was around he couldn't visit anyone."
"But maybe they'll do it again next year, it's the sort of thing that could recur."