[ Susato doesn't say anything further. Not because she doesn't want to, but because she genuinely doesn't know. Who was the woman in the white dress? As she thinks about it now, she remembers seeing dead butterflies littering the floor of her cell, and also the smell of burning.

She sighs into her teacup, which has become empty. ]

Well, no matter now. Perhaps it would be better for me to focus on other things.

[ There is reading, of course, which she would happily do, but that doesn't make for very good company. But they do happen to be in a kitchen... ]

How would you like to help me bake something, Mr Naruhodo?