Ember of the Silver Divers grips the bowl with one hand and brings it back to her lips. Her throat is wet with spillage, but she keeps sipping anyway. There's more than enough. The lovely sheep/innkeeper/captain will see to that in between looking after a terrified child clinging to a protective blanket.

There's still an echo of warmth to the blanket when it's looked at. Strange how these things are. Strange how she can still remember things that she'd forgotten then, there on Beri. Not strange at all how the terror of the Lethe is more dreadful on its far side, when you've had the opportunity to see how much of you there is to lose.

She licks her lips with a dry tongue.

"We should watch more serious films," she opines to the lobby. She's squinting even in the low light; the dull shine off the golden ornaments still stabs her eyes like a knife. That's a gruesome thought. Eyes. Brr. Losing one and having it replaced was bad enough back then. They're real bitches to regrow, too. New limbs are child's play in comparison. "Like, historical dramas? Subtitled Azura knight crime thrillers?"

She tries to think of more, but hits the wall of experience: historical dramas and foreign crime thrillers were the few reels that the Silver Divers greedily hung onto. Presumably there are more genres in the world. Like romances. Though the historical dramas did tend to have passionate blazing romances. But what about movies about maids and cooks and ordinary Ceronian scouts having adorable meetings involving bicycles?

She takes another sip. Dany is frowning at her, as if by disapproval alone she can force Ember to admit to wanting to watch more [i]Batrachomyomachia[/i] sequels. Joke's on her. Ember has been [i]trained[/i] never to break under interrogation. Even sexy interrogation. Which, let's be honest, is not forthcoming, given that Dany is a little girl and Dolce is, well, a very nice round chap who inexplicably has a lioness all [i]over[/i] him.

This has been a distinctly unsexy adventure. This whole thing inside of Bella's heart. For a woman so passionate, so shameless in getting what she wants, it seems that no one has been seeing any love in here. Desire, certainly. Hooked and jagged and razor-sharp. But not love. What does that mean for her? What does that mean for their marriage?

An eye falls on the blanket that Dany holds tight to her chest. Well. From the way that she holds it, from the way that warmth opens its petals in Ember's chest, maybe there was a little bit of love left. But still! Come on, Mosaic! Is this because Ember did silly voices while bottoming? She's a trained infiltrator! She can't help it! You could have had little a maid sex farce, as a treat?!

"Can you do the wonderberry swirl popcorn?" Dany looks up at Dolce with wounded hope. Poor man. How's he going to explain to her that only Bella knows the recipe for wonderberry swirl? Well, her and Mynx. But her popcorn always came with an extra bit of spice. Mithridates' Seasoning. Toxin-immune by thirteen or your money back!

"Maybe there are films about bicycles," Ember says, not letting her light-stabbed eyes close. She'll be ready. Just a moment longer. More water, if you would, waiter? Waiter, there seems to be some wool in my bowl. Well, don't say it so loudly, all the Bellas will be wanting some...