It was the mention of regret having Tet's family meet her, that caused the woman to blink back the surprise. A regret that Matteo believed he didn't mean. "Tet said that?" She inquired, refusing to allow the sharp pangs of hurt to anchor too deeply in her chest, or at least not outwardly show it. Although, it didn't stop Mira from putting her whole heart into making sure that the surface of the Ark's main bar shined so much it practically sparkled instead of letting those thoughts show on her features. She didn't say anything more on the matter, it did little to change anything. Yet she couldn't help but wonder what else he regretted. She had to abandon wiping down the bar, simply because there was nothing more to clean and it was failing to do what she hoped it would.

Mira, however, was grateful for the shift in conversation even if the topic of Tetradore did not change. In fact, the fae seemed willing to share a little bit about his son with her. More insight into the elusive man she had committed herself to. How she seemed more than a little willing to collect those breadcrumbs that were tossed her way.

It was then that Matteo mentioned that she required patience, for all things involving the were-king. Patience, she intended to offer him. Had she not already this far? She had never pushed for more than he was willing to offer. Yet those words were curious all the same.

In fact, it was far more curious why Matteo was here if not for his son. After meeting them, she hadn't seen any of them since.... which should have said more than she was willing to give it acknowledgement. Which meant her boyfriend's father was here for another reason. Did that mean something was wrong? Concern sparked the question if Tetradore was okay? She was unable to hide that worry that surpassed all else.

Unbothered by the question, he claimed that his son was well. Well... perhaps angry meeting with her, but that was a problem for him to deal with. At least he was okay. But why would he be mad at Matteo for seeing her? "Oh good, I was worried something happened." She said, allowing those golden depths to meet the pristine silver of his own again. The fae then swiftly moving the conversation along, claiming that he could see a great deal of the future... including her own and that there were many paths to be chosen. He sounded so purposefully cryptic in the choosing of his words that even Mira rose a brow at it in silent question. What did he mean by.. all of that? Especially the statement that some of those paths with his son would not be easy.

"I feel as though you are determined to tease me with ambiguity. But I am alright not knowing the future. If I am being entirely honest, I am not sure if the future is mine to know." Mira replied truthfully. As much as she desired to know the secrets of the universe... it was unlikely that anyone would know them. She was well acquainted with the obscure. After all, space was obscure. Almost like the future, in a very distant kind of comparison sort of way. Maybe she found herself drawn to the obscure.

"You said there are many paths to take. Does it ever feel strange knowing so many possible outcomes of the future and not knowing the exact one that will come to be? If anything, that makes you in the dark too? Doesn't it?" She questioned genuinely curious, it getting the best of her. If that was how future sight worked then that must be maddening, like a game of Russian Roulette. A gentle frown sullied her feminine features. "You don't have to answer that." She grinned almost sheepishly, realizing how personal she had asked but she was truly curious. "It is not the bartender's way to pry, anyways." She laughed easily and truly, running a hand through her soft brunette locks.

What she had not expected was for the Frenchman to suddenly alter topics when he did. His youthful features took on an expression that looked far too serious. She did not bother to hide that bafflement at the question of cooking Tet his meals before turning lighthearted once more with a chuckle as if he merely said the words to fish for her reaction. Mira's easy retort that her grandmother would take grave offence to his insinuation that she didn't know how to cook. But that was when the matter of packet pasta arose. An equally suspicious question soon trailed behind it. She had a sneaking suspicion that he tried to throw people off before he got to the heart of the matter. Revealing that Tet's mac and cheese was a sin. That he knew that Tet hid it but still asked if he still was eating it.. Matteo seemed to expect an answer and yet didn't he already have one?

She suspected with his future sight he could see it. Regardless, she wasn't going to rat Tet out. "What is the harm in enjoying one of life's simple pleasures? Even if that pleasure is... as you put... sin in a box. Or whatever you called mac and cheese." What was so significant about macaroni and why was Matteo bent out of shape about it?

He then claimed that Tet only ate it because he did not cook for him enough and that his tastes were specific. It was clear Tet probably said that to get his father to cook for him 'more'. Yet it was the mention of specific tastes that seemed to stick out more than anything. It was funny to hear the tangent until Matteo questioned her own cooking abilities. Hey now. What did she do to deserve that? Although it hardly bothered her. She posed a question of her own. Did he know of traditional Brazilian food? How quickly he seemed to find offence within those words as if he found it preposterous that she would even ask them. That he was all but familiar with ALL types of cooking. What was one to do after two thousand years of living?

"I cannot tell you that answer, Matteo. I am not two thousand years old. I have not lived even a fraction of that time." She remarked with good-natured humour. But the man seemed to take her previous words as a challenge nonetheless. In less than a full breath, a dish had appeared with a wave of his hand. The suddenness of it caused a start, the brunette taking a step back at the rudeness of it. Where there was once nothing, there was now a still steaming dish in its place. It was one that she instantly recognized. Her grandmother's speciality dish. She eyed the food skeptically before offering a questioning look toward the Frenchman who claimed he was prepared. Prepared didn't seem to quite cover this, she was certain. This went far beyond prepared. He swiftly offered her a fork that suddenly appeared just as that dish did, wrapping her fingers around it to notice the polished utensil, thankful that it was not silver.

Even as she studied the dish and all its familiarity, she couldn't help the grin that made its way to her face and all the memories it brought to the surface as he waited for her expectantly to try it. As if this made his point that he truly knew Brazilian cooking. She couldn't help but let out a small laugh. "You went through all this effort just because you foresaw a question I asked?" But it was clear that he expected her to taste it and judging how it smelled... She took in a deep breath just to savour it more. While she couldn't use those enhanced canine senses, she didn't need it to know. "It smells right..." She offered before her slender form moved around the bar to join him. If she was going to enjoy this impromptu meal, it wasn't going to be done standing. Her grandmother would not forgive her if she ate a perfectly home-cooked meal while standing up, let alone eating at a bar. But that last part would just have to slide. Maybe that visit home had renewed her memories or the habits formed from a young age.

Once settled, the she-wolf wasted no time, taking a full first bite. She had never felt more intently watched in her life. That food at barely been chewed and swallowed before Matteo asked if it was better than her vovo's that he promised not to tell her. Not exactly as her grandmother had done it but still, delicious. So good.

"Are you asking me to betray my grandmother?" She inquired casually before she took another bite, savouring it. Simply because it tasted wonderful and he had gone through all that trouble preparing that familiar dish that he also took to eating with a procured fork as well. As if only to confirm just how good his own cooking was.

To disregard her vovo's cooking felt sacrilege! Yet how did she also say that her grandmother, even at her age, could also give Matteo a run for his money? But she could hardly help what that first bite evoked within her.

"How did you..... This is excellent. It's my favourite dish she makes too. But you probably knew that already." Future sight and all. Perhaps it was best not to question it too hard. Instead, the she-wolf took another meaty morsel. He even cooked the meat to the perfect tenderness. She chewed it and swallowed it before speaking again. She could not blame Tet for holding the pretend guilt of packet pasta over Matteo's head when this was how he cooked.

That was when Matteo seemed to preen like a proud rooster about his own talent for cooking and how his son knows of good cooking because of what he had made him. Mira grinned to herself but nodded along all the same. But he mentioned those specific tastes once more. All before he dangled the proverbial carrot in front of the horse.

It was working too. But Matteo claimed he needed to evaluate her own talent. "I do not know how to convince you behind a bar where I am used to mixing drinks. But I know cooking has a lot to do with following instructions and that, I am pretty confident, I can do." There was a little bit of her own challenge to those words. Was that enough to convince him? The she-wolf could not help but wonder what evidence of her 'talent' he was searching for. Although the thought of being able to surprise Tetradore with his favourite dish did sound.. appealing. It was well worth the effort of convincing the fae that she could be at least capable enough to learn how to. "You mentioned before that Tet had specific tastes, what do you mean by that?" She inquired, her head tilting slightly in a way betraying her interest in the subject.

Only a little while after that, the fae promptly changed the subject back to the pronunciation of his son's name. Inquiring if his accent was truly that heavy. Mira let out a hearty laugh. Was that still bothering him? Matteo did not seem like the kind of man to let things go. "No. Not too bad. But I think that's just another thing you and my vovo have in common." She flashed him a warm friendly smile that me her still laughing golden eyes, with a hint of knowing in that very look. "Besides I think it kind of grows on you the more you hear it."