Astrid bites back a full-bridled laugh — it’s never good to seem to be laughing at Vega, she’s learned this by now — and instead just picks up the unlabelled bottle and tilts it back and forth, scrutinising the brew in the firelight. It looks a little distressingly herby.

“Akvavit. Based off the name aqua vitae in Tevene, I’ve heard, although it’s mostly drunk in the Frostbacks so I’ve been trying to make my own.”

The liquor’s a pale straw-gold colour, and she’d strained it through a cheesecloth into their glasses; experimental, still trying to find the right herb-and-spice mixture, the right strength. “S’mainly caraway seeds, star anise, and fennel seeds in vodka, but my uncle’s family recipe had dill and lemon so I used a bit of that. Still trying to get the proportions and strength right, so I’m not sure if it’s been steeping long enough…”

It’s very definitely been steeping long enough.

Hopeful: “What d’you think?”