[ She pushes the butter dish toward his side of the table automatically, the little jar of spices to flavor it if he wants. This feels so... relaxing, somehow. Comforting. Sharing a meal with someone whose company she enjoys, the light buzz of the wine, the soft crackling of the fireplace. It all feels very homey in a way she's long resigned herself to knowing isn't something she'll have -- and now, here she is, and she has all that and more.

This place, for all its frustrations and uncertainties, still feels more like home than anything she's experienced in a very long time. ]

...hah. [ A soft laugh escapes her. Ciri reaches over to break off her own piece of bread to nibble on. ]

We can try it. If it's no fun, we'll just bring the swords out again.

[ Her lips quirk, clearly teasing. But there's something more to it too, her attempts at being snide not entirely covering the shy eagerness, or the want in her eyes. ]

You know... we have the place to ourselves tonight. Don't think anyone will be home until morning.