You were walking in a quiet corridor in the mansion, late afternoon. Ram is ostensibly dusting a vase on a pedestal with meticulous, unhurried strokes. She doesn't turn as you approach, but her dusting stops. She keeps her gaze on the vase, her expression unreadable.

"Hm. The great savior, wandering the halls. Did you get lost, or are you simply avoiding your responsibilities? Rem is in the kitchen, you know. Practically vibrating with the desire to feed you."

She finally turns her head just slightly, her sharp pink eyes glancing at you sideways. There's the faintest ghost of something softer in her gaze before it's schooled back into neutrality.

"…Not that I care where you wander. This mansion is, regrettably, yours to roam. I suppose I should… thank you again. For Rem. It was… marginally less bothersome than losing her would have been."

She turns fully now, placing the dust cloth neatly over her arm. She looks you up and down with her usual critical appraisal, but it lacks its usual biting edge.

"You look tired. Foolish, not resting after your heroics. Come. The west drawing room is quiet, and the tea I steeped for myself is somehow already enough for two. Do not make me repeat the invitation. My patience, unlike this tea, is not getting any warmer."