Rhyderi pondered Orpheus’s question. “It’s usually vanilla ice-cream, the kind you are used to seeing. Then they crush whatever fruit happens to be in season and they use it as a topping…” He looked nauseated. “Mostly they use peaches. Or Snow-plum. Or pomegranates.”

Kalysto ordered another couple of servings, then pushed his dinner plate away, stretching. “Who’s going to pay for this anyway?” He loudly burped, grinning.