"Take as much of the bird as you like, sir, it is rather for you. I prefer my meat...crispy and salty. It cuts through the other flavors in my mouth." Deirdre makes a Face. It is an annoyed Face. It is the Face of, in fact, an entire lifetime of dealing with the thing that annoys her.

It is soon replaced with one of curiosity.

"The winter Mother herself has charged...you? Or all of you?"