Bomilcar, true to his word, had found a way to chase the staff from the kitchen for a bit to give Cuyler the chance to make use of the facilities. It may have cost him more than a gourmet meal or three to do so.

He leans against a wall while he waits.

For her part, Cuyler worked swiftly. It seemed effortless and she seemed very happy, humming quietly to herself. The tabara root was still cooking as she mixed the honey and spices. Coffee was brewing as well.

Once everything was ready, she brought sandwiches out to the table.

"I know your waiting for the tabara, but I thought some gyrak would be a nice start."

"Very kind," he commented, accepting the sandwiches. He takes a bite and smiles softly at the taste.

His eyes were far more expressive than his words. "Delicious."

"I'm pleased you like it." she smiled. "It is every chef's goal, to provide fulfillment and pleasure."

"How long?" he asks, moving with her to watch her at work. He imagines that the other way around was more boring. Watching a bodyguard work was not exciting.

He takes a second bite, while keeping enough distance to not get in the way but being close enough to observe.

"About 20 minutes." she said. "And, another 5 to cool. Enough time to learn about each other."

He nods, then asks mostly the same question again. Which is what he meant the first time, but his shortness causes issues like this sometimes. "How long you been cooking?"

"Oh." she realized her mistake. "For as long as I can remember. My family is a cooking family. We all train in the kitchen from a very early age."

He nods at that. "Never learned myself."

He thinks back to the chef he has back home that cooks for his Clutch. "Personal chef. Love his food."

"What is your favorite?" she asked.

"Beef stew, salusan beef," he offers. "Spicy." He thinks back to the last time he had it. This was the hard part of getting to know people for him. Stories were physically painful, because you had to use so many words. "Last time I had it... got a live Salusan cow deliverd to Ipyr... had it butchered for fresh beef...never frozen... so good."

He clears his throat and offers a smile, though it's obvious that it took quite a bit for him to share as the last few words were definitely more scratchy than the first.

"That would be delicious." she nodded appreciatively. "It's unfortunate I can't make that here."

She removed the Tabara from the oven and sprinkled a mixture if sugar and spices over it. Leaving it to cool, she poured coffee, stirring in more spices.

He nods at that. "What is your favorite?"

"I have an old recipe for pastys, pastries filled with meat and vegetables." she explained. "It's a simple thing, but comforting."

"Sounds good," he says. "Like flaky dumplings?"

"Yes. In a way." She sliced the tabara and set a large wedge on a plate before him along with a cup of coffee. She took another slice and a cup for herself.

He was really showing off his lack of culinary knowledge!

He takes some silverware and starts on the cake. And as soon as he took the first bite she saw what gruffness he had melt away. There was actually a tear forming from happiness.

"Ambrosia," he replied. "Truly."

"Thank you, Mr. Thorvald. You are too kind." She took a bite herself.

"Where'd you grow up?" he asks, taking another small bite and savoring the tabara. There is an almost sensual nature to how he seems to enjoy it. Not directed or presented for her. But purely between Bomilcar and the food sitting before him.

It was completely at odds with his normal personality and manner.

"Kirana." she replied. "Like most worlds, it has its good sides and bad."

Touting his knowledge of the obvious, he nods and replies. "Brandy's great." He really wasn't as stupid and simple as he seemed. It's just that he was excited about a topic he enjoyed but knew little about, and also happened to not speak at length. It did him no favors.

"Visited twice. Contract negotiations with sister," he explained. "Lovely world."

She nodded. "For the most part. I haven't visited many other worlds to compare it to."

"Been to a few. Favorable opinion from me," he said. The amount he's been speaking starts catching up with him and he clears his throat before sipping the coffee. He closes his eyes and seems to enjoy the flavors of the spices.

He then takes a bite of the tabara and a sip of the coffee to let both flavors mix on his tongue.

"Master." he says, complimenting her skills.

"Thank you, Mr. Thorvald." she smiled. "You have excellent taste. I will be happy to cook for you again."

"Anticipation," he says with a light smile. "How long with Mutelli?"