Ancestors, she'd almost forgotten. Sereda rose, padding into the kitchen, where she picked up a long, thin box and handed it to Zevran. "Apparently we're to give gifts on this world's holiday, and I do enjoy buying things." She'd gotten Zevran a bottle of wine that seemed to smell at least a bit like the Antivan equivalent.
That done, however, she sat back down and considered his words. "Nonetheless, though, Alistair should not see you as a threat. To do so insults me - and you, if you were entirely truthful with me beforehand." She didn't want to call him a liar, and she hoped he'd been telling the truth. It would get so much more awkward if he'd been fibbing.