"No shit?" says Iman, again before she can catch herself. She should probably not cuss so much around this nice medieval lady, whoops. "That's a noble fuckin profession." (Dammit.) "I wish I could bake. I'm useless in the kitchen. Maybe you can teach me something sometime." She smiles, leaning down slightly to catch the woman's eye. "Or if you want to keep all your secrets to yourself, I'll just have to sample your work."

So she's failing at all her imperatives here. She's a loose cannon. Deal with it.