"You can say that again." His voice comes from above her, low and sounding more than a little disgruntled. "I never thought it'd become such an excursion just to get from slagging food." And if he sounds annoyed, well, he is-- he hasn't been able to shake a strange unease at the mere concept of eating, solid food, three times a day, despite the fact that he's sure he's dined with the Keeper before.

Positive. Really. He had to have-- didn't he?

The fair servant is perched on the seat of one of the massive chairs, peering down with bright black-and-red optics. At his feet is a heap of-- linen? It looks like nothing so much as a blanket, although an astute eye would note that the linen blanket matches the dressing on the table in color and texture.