Guilt twinges under Alistair's ribs again, but briefer this time. He bends his head to finish fussing over the potatoes.

"Oh -- " Fiona, it seems, did not expect to the full force of Ivette's hospitality so soon upon waking, but in half an instant, she's drawn herself a little straighter and put on a smile as well. "Good morning. Just -- two, I suppose?"

She makes an effort to smooth her hair.

"Is there anything I can help with?"