Veronica came back to the stage, having pulled in a cart laden with what seemed to be baked goods. Creamy pies made up the majority of it. (Patreon)

 “I have what you asked for.” “What’s going on here?” Rowena interrupted, “this food is for the army.” Veronica saluted before responding. “It seems that our invasion has interrupted the rate of trade here. These were meant to be consumed by, um yesterday.” She handed one to Rowena, who smelled it, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “Well, you seem to be correct. Proceed.” “There’s so much more where that came from,” Veronica offered. “I’m just glad that these spoiled cream tarts aren’t for me,” Rowena said, uncharacteristically light-hearted. “Oh, and…we brought this one. Found her tied up in the square,” Veronica added, as another guard shoved Patrice forward, her wrists bound. “The more the merrier,” Lorraine responded, “We’ll make room.” 

(All-text post, because the characters have been very chatty lately.  It gets us to the good stuff sooner not to illustrate this back-and-forth exposition conversation.)