Freyr confirmed she was no longer needed for the day with Captain Andersen, which was customary as a passenger on an Outreman warship. She quickly made her way around the remaining delegates, saying thank you for the meeting and goodbye for now. “Did you want to stop by my place and get changed, Dr Lang?” Ambassador Verengonig asked as she walked toward the exit. 

“No thank you. That was really unprofessional by the way, butting into my conversation like that.” Freyr directed her venom primarily at agent 595, who she was sure masterminded the whole thing. “Says the woman consorting with spies at every turn!” 595 snorted. “I am just trying to save you from a precipitous fall from grace down the line, sweetie.” Freyr huffed in despair and stormed off.

She was in a foul mood when she rejoined Vreta in the flyer to the restaurant. She had secretly wanted to indulge the Ambassador and dress up, but was fed up to the back teeth of being condescended by this mysterious guardian angel she’d picked up along the way. Freyr hadn’t forgotten 595’s words about Vreta, but the agent's polarising behaviour had inclined her to risk it, if purely for the pleasure of disobeying.

“Wow.” Freyr gasped upon seeing the view from the balcony on one side of the restaurant where they were seated. She temporarily forgot her annoyance as she took in the landscape behind the capital’s dominant mountainscape “You certainly aren’t short on views in Threria.” They sat down and a Tindrel waiter clacked over on all fours to pour them a starting drink from a jug. “Is this an every day affair for you?” Freyr asked, taking a sip.