Her expression made Bragi laugh, and he offered her a playful smile to let her know that he was kidding. At the moment, anyway. The smile turned gracious when he accepted the oat cake. “Thank you.” Bragi couldn't eat it yet, because eating without his guest would be rude, but he could admire how good it looked. It still felt warm in his hand. “You know, this is probably small consolation to being stood up, but if you painted pictures of this oatcake you could probably make a fortune selling them to taverns. Owners could hang them up near the door. Patrons coming in would see it and be pausodonoptically soothed into buying everything. Since you only sold the picture and not the actual oat cake they’d inevitably end up disappointed, but it would add colour to their travel experience.” He bit his lip. “It would have to be those taverns on the road that get high traffic but very few regulars. Regulars would figure it out too soon. I’ll have to make you a list. As soon as I can stop looking at this.”
The books themselves didn’t concern Bragi, though he was pleased to learn she liked reading. The problem was just that he had only recently acquired a few that had a theme that didn’t match any of the other themes they had bookcases for, and while the books were all arranged in order, and stacked very neatly, an available surface for eating might be hard to find. He would have gone with the table outside option, if Sigyn hadn’t suggested that he might not want her in his home just because she’d arrived unannounced. “Uninvited is the wrong word,” Bragi said, “’Unexpected’ is the one I’d use, and you’ve always been welcome to come that way any time.” He tilted his head a little to the side and grinned, before turning somber. “Though if you decide to come a few hours before dawn, I'd advise bringing a very bright lamp. You don't have to. But the ground gets very uneven in a section of the path and the trees tend to camouflage well in the dark.”
Bragi turned his head in the direction she was looking. He made out the shape in the grass, and darted forward to pick it up. He held the flute up and smiled, then he turned towards his guest. “You found it,” he said with enthusiasm. “Thank you.” Then he gestured towards the hall beyond the trees. “We can invade now.” She'd been suitably warned about the books. Bragi led her up the path, and opened the door to his hall. “Please come in.”