Sirea smiled once more as she addressed Gianluca's question.

"Qassora cafulilea was a traditional drink amongst the peasantry of the Kingdom for eight hundred years before the revolution. Whilst royalty and the nobility drank expensive imported wines and spirits, the poor folk had to make do with what they could find growing in the rainforest, and this is what they came up with. It was always shared neat with any guests who arrived as a gesture of hospitality and then, as the summer wore on and things got hotter, what they had would be watered down and made more refreshing with citrus fruit so it could continue to be used the same way.

"Since the revolution Qassora cafulilea has taken off as our national drink and even the wealthy buy artisan versions of it, infused with all sorts of other ingredients. But for Vamapin as this feast is sometimes known as, because it has no equal, the traditional summer way of serving it remains the most popular."

She glanced out the window for a second, gathering her thoughts, then added, "There is an excellent brewer of artisan Qassori in Ciria. I could arrange for them to send some to Atlantis for you?"


Yena lead the way (behind security and a number of aides, at least) through the airport terminal towards the executive lounge, doing her best to talk to the Peony, despite the language barrier. She made a mental note to call in one of the translators. Indeed, there would probably be someone proficient in Mandarin amongst the staff in the lounge, but until then...

Another aide sidled over to her whilst they walked and leaned in.

"Her Imperial Highness, Princess Isara F. Firenze of the Frost Empire has arrived. They are waiting to disembark the jet."

Yena sighed, although she wasn't really annoyed. It was just that the timing of everything seemed so inconvenient today of all days. She was sure everything would run more smoothly once all the guests had arrived however. She turned to the Peony.

"I'm very sorry your excellency, but I must greet another of our guests on the tarmac, so to speak. My aide here will continue to lead you on towards the executive lounge and introduce you to my Foreign Minister, Sirea Fasya-Arkhando. I should be back with you shortly." She gave another slight bow and then, with a small detachment of bodyguards, took a shortcut to the executive gate.

She was nearly out of breath by the time they reached the patterned carpet laid out for their visitors beneath the baking sun, but there was a glass of water waiting for her and the door to the jet was only just opening, so she had a moment to compose herself.