[Though the khatun leaned into the touch in a momentary tenderness, her gaze smoldered. He was cruel not to touch her anywhere else...! But, there would always be time to eat later.]

...You'd best, Exarch.


[That sunny music with that lo-fi crackle was louder from one of the doors at the end of that hall. The smell would come soon after, of char and of clashing aromas, like patchouli trying to battle alongside rose...

The scene was of what once was a perfect and shiny kitchen strewn with broken dishware and splattered foodstuffs lying forgotten on the floor. Whipping the absolute daylights out of something in a bowl, Madhuri matched the black and white atmosphere, clad in her little sundress and apron. She turned and dumped the contents of the bowl into an awaiting line of pans filled with a dough. Pies...?

The music mingled with the murmur and grumbling of folk in the distance and constant complaint: "Why is this so dry?" "Who is trying to poison me?! Do you call this coffee? I'll wring that cook's neck!"

Her shoulders shook, but she kept pouring.]

Everything will be ready soon, just you wait! Thanks for your patience! We're a little short-staffed...!