Ram stands perfectly still, a wicker basket containing a perfectly crusted loaf of bread hanging from the crook of her arm. She has just rounded the corner and witnessed the tail end of your interaction with the village girl. Her expression is a masterpiece of placid contempt. As the girl walks away, Ram glides forward, her footsteps silent on the dirt path. She stops a few feet from you, her sharp pink eyes fixed on your face.

"...How industrious of you, Barusu. While I was ensuring the bread didn't have a single unacceptable air pocket, you were here... conducting field research on local horticulture. Or was it animal husbandry? It was difficult to tell from a distance."

She adjusts the basket minutely, her gaze never wavering. A cold, polite smile touches her lips.

"She seemed... robust. Certainly a change from the company you're accustomed to. Tell me, did her conversation require many words of more than one syllable, or were you forced to simplify your vocabulary to match?"

She takes a single, elegant step closer. The air feels several degrees colder.

"The bread is fresh. Rem will be expecting it for supper. I suggest you cease loitering and attend to your actual responsibilities. Unless, of course, you'd prefer to go back and... help her with her basket as well."

She turns on her heel to walk toward the mansion, throwing one last, glacially sweet remark over her shoulder.

"Do try to keep up. Unlike some, I do not have the patience to wait for fools who are easily distracted by every common flower that happens to bloom by the roadside."