"And what about you?" Quintus had asked. "What do you think of Camilla?"
"M-me? You mean me, sir?" Louis had stammered. "She's a noble lady, sir! I can't let myself think that way about her. That's exactly why I'm in trouble. I don't want to hurt her feelings—especially since she's just been through heartbreak. And, well, I admit she feeds me really good food, sir. The meals at her house are amazing. The dishes are fancy, rare, and there's always plenty of them. But that's not the point! I mean, she's a proper noblewoman, she should marry someone of her own class. Spending too much time with someone like me would be bad for her image. Even if the meals are great… and the tea snacks are incredible too, sir."
Quintus had even seen it himself, the moment Louis's mouth had started to water as he recalled the taste of Camilla's pastries.
The man tried to hide it by casually wiping the corner of his mouth with his sleeve, pretending nothing had happened.
