He felt her nod to that and her long moment of thoughtful consideration. One could be forgiven for assuming that she was, perhaps, thinking about her own such moments of food as a balm; that moment in a city with alabaster walls, perhaps, or some dish unique to her homeland.

But her next question proved that potential assumption incorrect. She knew full well it wasn't her turn; she also knew she didn't care. "What dish nourishes your soul, Ignis?"