[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/180729/2fbb5311a75998e59e501513aa9e6c2c.png[/img] [color=a187be][i]Ashkevron Residence in Askavi[/i][/color][/center] Fatima came out of the kitchen, apron resituated over her form and two large mugs of steaming coffee in her hand. One she pushed into Denar's hands. The other was offered to Belor. She smiled playfully up at the Eyrien. [b]"I do believe she said to go ahead and invite these people in since I was so kind as to be inviting guests into her home already."[/b] Her tone and inflection implied she knew she had done wrong and was prepared for the consequences. But that she also took this in stride and with lightheartedness for Fatima was simply what she was. Young. [b]"Besides. One of them is mine. I will weather the storm later."[/b] It would likely do her some good to have some chastising. Not to mention, the hurt that could come from it would mean a well-weeded garden. Her hands were itching for some earthly work. [b]"Thank you for your concern. Breakfast is hot and in the kitchen."[/b] Fatima relinquished the cup to him before ushering to white-haired pair into the kitchen as well. Fatima gestured toward seats at the table as she began to uncover hot plates of eggs, bacon, and pancakes. She placed a plate before each person, including mother. The two Warlord Princes received plates overflowing with the simple breakfast. Fatima mostly ignored her own plate as she set about cooking and ensuring more breakfast for Mikhail and Faeril. Maybe seconds for anyone who needed it. She was not entirely sure about the strengths of her two new companions and wanted to make sure that the troupe would not go hungry. Just where were Faeril and Mikhail anyhow? Shouldn't they be done with their session about now? Shouldn't her ears be getting blistered off by Faeril's seething rage?