[It's an intimate setting, but it's one of the only places Wanda has both privacy and any capacity to prepare food. It feels like the old days, when Novi Grad would lose power and you'd have to cook over a fire. And if she pretends there's little difference, maybe she can also pretend the increasingly familiar dull ache doesn't exist.

They're almost comically out of sync: it feels like she was born too late for him but she would not truly be herself if he hadn't brought the Mind Stone to Earth. It would be easier if she could just hate him and move on with her life...but his competence as a teacher aside, she just can't even wrap her mind around that possibility.

So she turns and smiles when she senses him, even managing a shallow mock curtsy in response to his 'formal' greeting.] Your highness.

[These slices have finished toasting. Wanda floats them over to the table and replaces them with the next set. She's alllllllmost done.]

I found something they said was from Vanaheim. It is not paprika, but it's closer than I thought I would find. And this sauce - I am not sure what you call it? - will taste better than what I was looking for, I think.