She has more questions, but she wants a bit more conversational space between them and the last topics. She'll summon snacks for them, and then give the girl an opportunity.

"Is there anything you wanted to ask me?"

(Mihent is rotating between kinds of snacks on the dawning realization that Isidonia may be intending to graze on interview snacks all day instead of ever sitting down to lunch.)

"What do you see as your ideal role in Amentan society? Long term," says Tsumininia.

"I have four children, on my home planet." She pauses briefly after saying it, then continues. "So my ideal is to visit Amenta and then return to them. But perhaps return will establish the possibility of continued travel between the planets, at which point Felip might become the Chelish ambassador to Amenta." Ambassador was a step down from their previous ambitions, but that was before they discovered a potential neighbor larger and probably richer than Golarion.

"But if return is impossible--well, we must be prepared for that as well. I have not envisioned this in detail; I imagine it will depend substantially on Felip's ambitions. I imagine I will manage the household and curate gatherings of the relevant elites, continuing in my duties as a hostess."

"Are you likely to want to retain whoever you choose for this position in your own world, or dismiss them then if you should find you can return?"

"When I married and left Taldor, one of my ladies-in-waiting decided not to follow me to Mendev, to stay closer to her family", and further from the demons. "I would not criticize any Amentan who wanted to stay here. But if one wanted to come to Cheliax--the powerful transporation magics that I know tend to be rather limited in how many passengers can come along, and I do not think I could promise any slots would be available."

"All right. Thank you for your time."

She considers, for a second, whether to ask more questions, then decides it's worth it. "What does being blue mean to you?"

Tsmininia thought they seemed done but apparently they're not and she rolls with it. "It means - that I can be the instrument of the will of the people who choose me to represent them, if I grow into it as I hope to."

She'll nod at that. "That will be all."

It is time for lunch; she will have half an apple and a poached egg. Felip will have some sort of meat wrap, the other half of the apple, and two eggs. She'll write down more notes as Mihent prepares it.

Mihent would sure be fascinated by the alien caloric needs represented by "one egg and half an apple is lunch" if she hadn't been bringing Isidonia tiny sandwiches and fruit skewers and stuffed mushrooms and dressed crudités all morning. A grazing species, apparently.

"And how was your morning?"

"Three candidates." She'll describe them briefly, with Ninpa getting the most detail. She's glad to have an afternoon of options to consider as well. "And you? How was your morning?"

He finished his lunch in the time it took her to describe the candidates, and now he leans back in his chair, switching to storyteller mode. "Well, it started with--"

The oranges want blood samples. Actually, they want more samples than that but they consider blood the most indispensible. If he's alarmed by the needle they can demonstrate on somebody, they've brought spares.

"I don't mind shedding blood for a worthy cause, though you may find my skin a bit difficult to pierce. Keep at it and you'll get there." Hopefully they manage to work around the Mage Armor without jabbing him too deeply.

"What do you plan to use it for?" There are many reasons to not let a witch or wizard get ahold of your blood, but he imagines none of those apply here.

They will try to explain the tests. And dumb them down a few times midsentence when they realize how little background he has about what blood is. Why is his skin so tough?

"Magic," he says unhelpfully. "You never know when someone will want to let out your blood involuntarily, and it helps to be prepared."

And he can't turn it off for a minute so they can stop blunting the needles and needing to start over?

He can. It is his weakest sort of exhaustible spell; it's probably fine to expend on this. He closes his eyes for a moment, and then takes off one of his necklaces, and then takes off one of his rings, and then his skin is as pierceable as normal.

Oh good. They will be taking a small amount of blood divided up between many tiny vials, Amentans can lose more than this with absolutely no problem but they don't want to risk humans being different. There, all done, unless his spells and items also prevent removing saliva and cheek swabs and strands of hair?

No, nothing will resist that. 

"Is that all?" He feels a little naked, without his defensive enchantments, even though all he's done is rolled up a sleeve a bit.

"Yes, that's all!" They have brought portable equipment with which to analyze his biochemistry and he can look on if he would like to. Tahu's hovering too.

The jewelry goes back on, and then he gestures and says some strange words, and then he's comfortable again. What does he make of their arcane devices?

Well, he can (for mysterious reasons) read the displays, but they're in jargon and numbers and indicator lights.

Even if he can't read the devices, he can read the doctors. Are they excited? Disappointed? Relieved?