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“I cannot believe you,” Reim hissed. “Lady Sharon, that’s horrible!”
“It’s funny, ” she whispered back.
“It is not! That’s—that’s— you told him Xerxes’s diet consisted of 50% shit for his entire childhood ! That’s not okay, Lady Sharon—and nor is it believable!”
Lady Sharon smirked. “I don’t know, he did believe it,” she said. “Poor, poor Xerxes…his cruel stepmother and stepsisters…”
“Oh my God.”
“...forced him to eat shit, and now he’s traumatized…”
“Oh my God .”
“...so sweet little Gilbert Nightray is going to be a perfect gentleman and cook for him, and so we’ll get plenty of excellent treats.” Lady Sharon’s smirk grew. “You can’t really complain about that, can you, Reim?”
“Yes,” Reim said. “I can. Watch m—”
He cut himself off as the young lord in question came past, face serious, carrying a pan that smelled of something delicious. Reim, who had been working nonstop since early that morning and had not yet had something to eat, felt his stomach groan.
“Lady Sharon…Mr. Reim…” said Lord Gilbert, “um, do you know where Break it? I made this for him…”
“I’ll accompany you there,” said Reim, who very much did want to try the food Gilbert Nightray had made. “It’s very kind of you to make this for him, especially considering his…situation.”
“Oh, thank you!” said Gilbert. “I was…really shocked to hear that…I hope he’s doing better now.”
“I’m sure he is,” Reim said, and Lady Sharon shot him a wicked grin as they led Lord Gilbert to Break’s office.
Break was, predictably, confused as all hell as to why Lord Gilbert was cooking for him, and as he picked a fight with a traumatized teenager, Reim and Lady Sharon descended on the cake that Lord Gilbert had made like a pair of piranhas.
“I still,” Reim told her, “don’t approve.”
“And yet you’re eating anyway,” Lady Sharon said primly.
Reim sighed. “They’re going to figure it out.”
“Will they, though?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
Reim sighed again. “Well,” he murmured, “at least we get free food out of it, I suppose.”
“We most certainly do!”