User blog comment:SCORNFUL1/Audience With A Vampire: Ask Armata De'Sange/@comment-28358106-20171226071958/@comment-28358106-20180105162009

"Or perhaps your Lord is a worthy soul whose generosity lies hidden beneath a veneer of carefully cultivated broodiness," Adelaide says lightly, picking up her napkin and deftly placing its fold across her knee.

She looks to her meal. A bowl of buttered squash, leek and pumpkin soup, topped with shavings of smoked ham, steams in front of her. Two generous slices of whole grain bread, ground and folded just that morning, are topped with buttercream, the pale dabs melting into the rough toasted surface. A small slice of soft white cheese sits on the side, wrapped in cheesecloth to keep it from drying.

Instantly, she can tell that this is the common fare of the folk of the countryside. It's too fresh not to be.

She takes her first taste of the soup, her eyes closing as she pulls the spoon from her lips. The savory of the ham and the sweet of the pumpkin, the bite of the leek and the richness of the buttered squash come together, uncomplicated and wholesome. It's not unlike the fare of the folk of her own realm.

"Marvelous," she murmurs to herself.

"I should like to meet the chef who prepared this," she says, daintily lifting a slice of toasted bread between her fingers. "If it is not too much to ask, my dear." Her eyes shift to Imperia as she takes a small bite of the bread.