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[Even with her newfound vocation as an actual baker at Kaveh's cafe, Jill still has an excess of baked goods in her possession that need to find forever homes. And much like a stray animal in a house already full of pets, she cannot convince Clive to keep any of them. After all, she can only eat but so much sugar before it turns her stomach and Clive won't touch the cake (probably reminds him of social events.)

There's a list of people she's been handing her baking off to and unbeknownst to Dion, he's on that lineup. Though it's been a while since they last spoke, Jill doesn't hesitate to rap lightly on his chambers' door with one hand as the other holds a basket of edible gifts. Her only hope is that the prince is fond of sweets.]

[Admittedly, he hadn't expected company, though he's aware he shares relatively close quarters with no small number of others. Still, most simply don't come knocking without preamble, save Joshua, and Dion has come to know his knock.

This is different. He sets aside the book he'd been reading, slipping a scrap of parchment between the pages before setting it on his desk and making his way to the door.

When he opens it, he's surprised at who's on the other side.]

Lady Jill. To what do I owe the honor of your visit?

[Lady Jill. He's still the only person in this world to call her that, even though she is quite sure she told him to drop the honorific in the past. But he's seemingly stubborn and so is she, to the point that Jill gives him a short curtsy, as one does when in the presence of nobility.]

Prince Dion, I hope I'm not disturbing you this afternoon. [She places her empty hand on the basket to indicate her reasoning for being here.] I come bearing gifts.

Of course not, but please, call me Dion. I insist. Now, come in. I was just thinking to make some tea. I can easily serve for two, and now we have cakes besides. [He's not uncouth enough to not recognize when someone's humoring him, and he smiles slightly as he steps from the doorway to invite her in to his admittedly spartan quarters. There are clean but basic linens on the bed that a noble effort was made to make, a few books on a shelf atop a desk that at least as seen some use.

The book he'd set aside to open the door resting near the chair making it obvious that was his current read. His armor is on a rack in the corner, his halberd leaning against the wall beside it.

He at least has one visitor on occasion as there are two chairs near the hearth on the opposite side of his room, a table between them large enough for the tea set there and he moves the kettle to the hanger and turns it into the fire as he motions her inside and toward one of the chairs near the fire.]

Have a seat. I can even manage the brewing and serving on my own.

Only if you also insist on calling me just Jill.

[She can play this no titles game too. After all, her history is of no Lady if she tells it.

There's a quick glance around the room as she steps in, more curious than judgemental. Jill isn't the type to criticize someone's sleeping area, not when she's slept in on more bare floors and old chocobo barns than one can count. The quarters are as bare as she expected it to be; after all, Dion has only been here a few months if she remembers correctly and it takes time to someone to make a life.]

I wasn't aware you gained the skill in brewing your own beverages.

[There's quite a bit of mirth in her tones, absolute teasing. She's fully aware that no prince makes his own tea, much less pours it on his own, but when there's no servants to be had, one must do so alone.]

Edited 2025-09-08 01:02 (UTC)

If that is your desire, then so be it, just Jill.

[And by all the gods in the heavens, Dion Lesage can joke. Admittedly, it's something of a poor one, but it's relaxed, casual even. The Prince can relax.]

Yes, well, [He says with a slight smile-] It was either the learning or a complete lack of tea and I refused.

[He motions toward her basket.]

Now what is it you've brought? Is this a bribe?

And as I know from experience, a lack of tea is just suffering.

[It's not like the Ironbloods let her brew a cup whenever she wanted. But at least nowadays, Jill can find the dark humor in that and bring it out into a light she creates when she wants to, not when she's told to.]

Bribe? You take me as one who bribes? [She takes advantage of the moment to walk a bit further into his room, towards the table, where she sets the basket down with an amused grin.]. Dion, I believed you thought more of me. Perhaps I will take these freshly baked breads and cakes back home for them to grow stale, if that is the case.

[In truth, she is not the least bit offended. But if she was, she'll just find someone else to pawn the good off on. Davrin could probably always use another full basket of carbohydrates.]

Edited 2025-09-13 23:47 (UTC)

Indeed. When one is forced into the wilds, one must take their creature comforts where one might.

[He places a hand over his heart, expression serious still even as his eyes glitter with something akin to mirth.]

I meant no offense, Jill. Only that desperate times breed desperate measures. I must say, though, that I know not what I might provide in recompense. I can only pray my company fitting tribute.

[It has not occurred to him, in truth, that she may simply wish to spend time with him, or may only be seeking a place onto which to unload her baked burden.]

I am in a rather forgiving mood, so I will allow the transgression to pass this time. I may not be so in the future.

[Though Jill wouldn't say she's as familiar with Dion as Joshua is, she does welcome this moment of lightheartedness where they can both tease each other. No harm, no foul. Founder knows their lives are all together too serious to not take the opportunity to enjoy each other's company.

Speaking of that, while she intended on making this a short stop just to offer the bread and cakes for the taking, Dion did offer tea. And what kind of lady would Jill be to turn down a hot cup?]

You did bring up the topic of tea, so perhaps that would do in exchange for taking all of these off my hands.

I shall take the warning for what it is.

[The cups he brings from a side table are plain but serviceable and he places them on the small table between the chairs near the fire while the water heats, chuckling as he has a seat.]

Thank Greagor for that. This may surprise you, but I am not partial to small talk. Hopefully my tea pleases enough for suffice.

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