"It's open to anyone who'd be a friend, as I said."

She gestured, and pulled a little cloth out of nowhere at all. "I don't suppose you're hungry, after coming all the way from wherever that is, Gregory of Deegan?"

She'd completely misunderstood the name, but maybe what she was pulling out of the cloth would appeal? It looked to be a little pie, dark black stains glossy around the little holes in the top crust, hinting at some sort of fruit filling... and the aroma of it was certainly designed to be enticing. How long ago had that been baked, and where had she been hiding it? She hadn't reached into any pockets. Her dress, fitted to her top as it was, didn't seem to have any....