[She’d spent a good ten minutes staring at her tea pot wondering if she should make some. It felt like something to do. The barn converted for jinba (and centaur) comfort is already tidy, she has nothing to do to prepare for guests… except make tea and gently pull a wrapped instrument from its place of honor to put it closer to hand.

And in the end, she doesn’t make any. She doesn’t know what sort of tea goes with Indian food.

She’s smiling when she opens the barn doors, but there are signs of sadness in her eyes she can’t and doesn’t feel a need to hide.]

Lord El-Melloi… Make yourself at home.

[He has the choice between a human-sized table or cushions in the hay and reed bedding.]

Thanks for coming out all this way… That smells delicious.

[Not even a lie to flatter, it really did. But also… Right.]

… ah, the II. Sorry. El-Melloi II.

[She keeps forgetting.]