And she is a lady, of course; though the correct term of address is Speaker Thevenet, she has come to claim the slightly mocking Lady Benevenuta as her own, inimitable and unfazed. Of medium height and striking looks, she hasn't lost a step or gained an inch of fabric in black and silver, a few strands matching it in her hair the only particular suggestion that at any point in the past decade she's broken stride for the march of time.

“Vanya,” she greets, warmly, Nevarran from the top of her head to her neatly-shod toes, the accent not softened in the slightest for her years of traversing Southern Thedas in her diplomatic capacity, “and Doctor Strange, of course,” who needs no introduction to a woman who has her claws sunk quite so firmly into the family of his stroppy little mistress.

Benevenuta presents her cheek for Vanya to kiss. This does not appear to be optional.

“You must pass my regards to Enchanter Isaac,” she says, “I believe he mistook his destination, he dashed back through it so quickly I had hardly a moment to greet him.”