A trip to Antiva wasn't just for the benefit of the Inquisition when you happened to somehow more or less speak the language, and Araceli weaves her way over to Lena, stripped down to as little as she can get away with without scandalising anyone, her own meal balanced in one hand as she takes a seat.

She clocks Lena's look, peers around to make sure no one's watching, and sets her food down and leans close.

"So I still owe you a proper meal but," she digs into a pouch at her hip and produces little jars of spices that she waggles, "I thought that might put a smile on your face."