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“So what would you like?” said Lluis.

“Ah--are you sure you don’t need a break?” said Hector. “I’d rather you rest, if you’re tired.”

“Oh, nonsense,” said Margot. “It would be our honor to cook for you.”

“Do you have any calamari?” said Dimas.

At that, the pair hesitated. “Er--no, I’m sorry, Lord Dimas,” said Lluis.

“Mm,” said Dimas. “Lobster?”

“I’m afraid there isn’t any seafood in stock at the moment,” said Lluis.

“I thought a new food shipment arrived a few hours ago,” said Dimas.

“It did, lord, but there was no seafood in it,” said Lluis.

And Dimas’ normally expressionless face let slip a frown. “What do you have in stock, then?”

“Bread, beef, and cheese, mainly,” said Margot. “We could whip up some fantastic burgers for you, if you like.”

“That sounds great,” said Hector. “Make mine a double, please.”

The married couple smiled. “As you wish, lord,” said Lluis.

When they looked at Dimas, however, their mirth diminished somewhat. The man’s face was far from enthusiastic.

“Would you like something else, Lord Dimas?” said Lluis.

Dimas waited a moment, glancing between them and Hector briefly. “...No, that sounds fine,” he said, though it sounded rather like a sigh.

“V-very well,” said Lluis, and the couple ventured off together to the store room on the other side of the kitchen.

Hector and Dimas returned to the dining chamber immediately outside. It wasn’t as spacious as the enormous banquet hall that made up the entirety of the second floor, but the two of them didn’t have need of such room.

“...Do you not like burgers?” said Hector as they sat down at a long table across from one another.

“...Yes,” said Dimas.

Hector’s brow lowered. “Yes, you do? Or yes, you don’t?”

“...I find them perfectly edible,” said Dimas.

Hector almost snorted a laugh. “If you wanted something else, you could’ve just said so.”

“...I did not want you to think I am a picky eater,” said Dimas.

“...Are you a picky eater?”

“...No.”

‘Why did that “no” sound more like a “yes?”’ said Garovel.

Dimas didn’t say anything and averted his gaze.

“Hey, uh, it’s okay,” said Hector. “I’m kinda picky, too. I don’t really like mushrooms.”

Dimas’ eyes fell upon him again. “...Only mushrooms?”

“I... er...” It was suddenly difficult to think. “Maybe... oh, I don’t like horseradish. That stuff’s gross.”

“...Anything else?” said Dimas.

“Ah... p-probably. What about you?”

A beat passed, and the Lord Sebolt shook his head. “...It doesn’t matter.”

Hector stifled a laugh, and for a few long seconds, they just sat there in complete silence.

As was perhaps both expected and appropriate, it was up to the reaper to revive things. ‘Welp, uh, anywho... Hector and I could really use your input on a few things, if you wouldn’t mind hearing us out.’

Dimas straightened in his seat. “Yes, of course.”