12-13-2020, 09:10 PM
Ambrose did not stay to watch her cook. However, a servant was sent to assist with the cleaning as she worked, lightening her load quite a bit, when the dish was nearly finished the young woman went to fetch Ambrose. Returning around the time she was pulling it out of the oven he offers her a smile as he waves to the servant. The girl goes to take over doing the dishes as Ambrose indicates that Vela should stay where she is.
"It smells delightful."
He informs her before he picks up the plate.
"However, the job wasn't to make something for me."
He gestures for her to follow leading the way out of the kitchen and up through the house. Passing through a pair of double doors they enter a wide-open library. Tall bookshelves that had yet to be filled lined both walls. A few books had been moved from the dozens of boxes and onto the shelves but the work appeared to have been abandoned swiftly. The center of the room had a large table that was covered with books and sheets of paper pens, and various other things. Then around the table where two blackboards on wheeled stands. A man with a mop of frizzy brown hair, with the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up scribbles on the boards. He doesn't even glance over his shoulder at the sounds of the doors opening, he just continues to work.
"The job is to get him to eat it."
Ambrose says with a sigh as he hands the plate of food to Vela.
"It smells delightful."
He informs her before he picks up the plate.
"However, the job wasn't to make something for me."
He gestures for her to follow leading the way out of the kitchen and up through the house. Passing through a pair of double doors they enter a wide-open library. Tall bookshelves that had yet to be filled lined both walls. A few books had been moved from the dozens of boxes and onto the shelves but the work appeared to have been abandoned swiftly. The center of the room had a large table that was covered with books and sheets of paper pens, and various other things. Then around the table where two blackboards on wheeled stands. A man with a mop of frizzy brown hair, with the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up scribbles on the boards. He doesn't even glance over his shoulder at the sounds of the doors opening, he just continues to work.
"The job is to get him to eat it."
Ambrose says with a sigh as he hands the plate of food to Vela.