Navia was unsurprised to see Théadan was intrigued by Osa’s insistence she meet him and view his palm. She had figured Théadan might be curious of the woman enough to allow it and even if he hadn’t been, she probably would have tried to convince him. She was also curious to see what Osa might see in his hand and have to say. “I don’t know how she does it,” Navia answered with a shrug when he questioned Osa’s ability to look at someone’s hand and speak of their future. She had wondered it herself when she’d first gone to Osa for help, had been skeptical and uncertain if it was the right course for her to take, especially with her family’s aversion to the woman, but Osa had always been uncannily able to comment on aspects of her life.<br/><br/>She started to explain as much to him, to let him know Osa might be able to bring up something about his past she could not have known, but Théadan surprised her by trailing his fingertips down her forearm. Eyebrow raised, she glanced up at him first, then watched his fingers lower to her hand and turn it over so he could study her palm. “What—?” She started to ask, wanting to know just what he thought he was up to, but Théadan began ‘reading’ her palm and describing himself. She started to roll her eyes at his antics, but he caught her attention by pointing out a feature in her palm and questioning it. Navia looked on curiously, only to laugh when he described it as a point of disruption because she was going to get them into trouble. He seemed quite pleased with his announcement and Navia shook her head with a smirk as he returned to his food and complimented it.<br/><br/>“I have missed our food,” Navia agreed, working her way down her skewer to withdraw a piece of beef, “Though I do wish I would have more of an opportunity to try Mes’Mo’Tanian meals. It seems like the majority of our meals were either by your army cook or me struggling over a fire.” They had eaten well in Nygaard of course, but that had only been a fraction of their time in Mes’Mo’Tan. She hoped once they reached Mandira, the palace cooks would be willing to try to make some Mes’Mo’Tanian dishes so Théadan could have a taste of home when he felt like it. It was important to her that he did not forget or yearn for certain aspects of the country he loved if she could help it.<br/><br/>It was so pleasant to sit with him and enjoy their meal together, with the torchlight behind them and the stars above. Navia was blissfully content to eat and survey the jungle laid out before them, ever increasing in its darkness as the sun dipped below the treeline. Their shoulders brushed while they ate, their thighs companionably touching, and Navia was soon plucking the last vegetable from her skewer and sighing her contentment. Wanting to finish off her meal with a quick drink, Navia sat up a bit when remembering the kitchen attendant assisting her had also brought out a small water pitcher and glasses. She looked across Théadan, debated asking him for help getting a glass, then thought better of it. With a smirk she glanced down to make sure her robe was still tightly closed. Then Navia turned in her seat and slid leg across his lap, her robe slipping back only enough to bare her thighs to him. Once she was straddling him and able to reach the pitcher, she began to pour herself a glass while glancing at him with a smirk forming on her lips, “Excuse my reach, but I needed a drink.” It was definitely misused, she’d chosen to slide into his lap instead of reach over him, but it was all part of the mischief Navia had planned. She brought the glass up to her lips to sip, her amused dark eyes intent on Théadan’s while she drank. Then she reached forward to bring it to his own lips in case he’d like some as well. “So tell me,” Navia started, quite content to remain kneeling over Théadan and looking down at him, “What kind of trouble do you think my mischievous ways will get my lover into tonight?”