It's at that moment that the jingle of pottery can be heard, as Beleth enters the room with a tray that boasts a kettle with steam curling lazily out of it, along with three cups, a bowl of little sugar cubes, and a larger one with hearth cakes that had been made yesterday, and quickly heated up along with the kettle.

"The hearth cakes aren't quite right without halla butter, but cow butter does a fine enough job. I've been planning on buying goat milk to see if it tastes--" She only stops talking when she steps in and notices the tension in the air. A moment is spent resisting the urge to roll her eyes--of course an old friend of Solas' means that they're arguing, undoubtedly about something stupid that they both feel very strongly about. "--But I'm guessing you didn't grow up on halla butter, did you, Felassan?"

The tray is set down on the end table that rests in front of the two chairs--oh, hmm. She leaves for a moment, and emerges back into the room shortly, dragging one of the chairs from the kitchen in. It gets set up, and she gracefully lowers herself onto it, trying to look the part of a hostess, even if it's to her idiot bondmate and whatever weirdo he's dragged in from his past.

"So," She says, leaning forward to pour the still steaming tea into the three cups. "Tell me all about your life in the Virnehn clan, and how you came to know this humble apostate from a small village." Her tone is too light and mild for her to be anything but irritated. Has she not suffered enough lying liars who lie? Or is she just uniquely cursed? This never happened to Rook. All her companions were sweet and kind and didn't hide crazy secrets from her.