Meallan jerks away immediately once he realises who the slap is from, only barely biting down on an automatic response to demand what she wants this time. He doesn't want to give her any justification to take further offence if he can help it, but he imagines it won't matter much how polite he tries to be.

All the same, he straightens to a more tense, carefully controlled stance and only spares a brief glance for the fruit she's offering.

"I don't know if you're up to something," he says, meeting her gaze again. "But you've already made it rudely apparent what you think of me so if your goal is to try and rub it in, I'd suggest you give up that idea. I haven't the time or patience for it."