Benevenuta offers her the spoon as she sits down, folding one foot underneath herself and resting the other on the floor - easily at home, like she's lived here forever when she can't have been in this particular flat long at all from the look of it. It still feels new in places, the way that her belongings haven't yet quite filled it, like she's still growing in.

(Deciding who she is, exactly, to this city.)

“It was, ah, touch and go.” It's probably a good thing Lucius can't hear her mildly deprecating comment, there, he'd probably choke on something.