It's been a long night for Iramaat. Her own shirt is unbuttoned almost to the waist, exposing a long strip of bare skin and her trousers have been replaced with a sort of loin-cloth-esque garment at some point. Look, it's a party. Things happen.

So she has no objection. She kisses him on the cheek and then starts to tear at the silver wrapping paper.

"I want to take a look, first..."

The more she unwraps, the more the object comes into focus. Is that what she thinks it is?