[ There's a soft chuckle from her at that, her mind temporarily but successfully distracted from both the wandering anxiety and frustrated attraction alike.

She understands all too well how difficult the art of cooking is— she herself has become quite talented at it over the years, and nowadays the Company's rations are something adapted from her own personal recipe by their cooks.

(And quite frankly, she enjoys her own version much more.)

But for Diluc to learn on his own, without assistance and through sheer stubbornness of will, is impressive— she, of course, had paid lessons: a proper tutor and punishments for mistakes. ]

In that case... what is your favorite thing to make now?

[ She also has to wonder, if she's honest, what the failed attempts looked like— or what kind of expression he wore on his face when he failed them. She can't help but think that frustration would look good on him—

No. Focus. ]

You said you had food with you, too. Is it something you prepared yourself?