One hot morning bath later, Evan headed to a small clearing just outside the cave, where Artemisia and Beatrix were already seated. The latter was holding up a pan, stirring its contents with a spatula as the aroma of cooked pasta filled the air.
"One serving of pasta from Chef Beatrix, coming up," she announced cheerfully.
Evan took a seat and remarked with a nod. "Ah yes, Beatrix's surprisingly good cooking."
The moment the words left his mouth, Beatrix froze, then slowly turned her gaze toward him.
"What did you just say?"
Evan instinctively backed away, sensing imminent danger, but Beatrix didn't move. She merely glanced at the pasta, then looked back up at him with narrowed eyes.
"Half-serving for you."
"?!"
Evan's expression twisted in horror and betrayal. "How could you?! With food?! You can threaten a man with anything, but not food!"
Still wearing her cold expression, Beatrix replied, "Quarter serving."
