Papa was shifting uncomfortably in his seat, squirmed about as he tried to gobble down his food.
"Papa, relax. No..."
"Uh-uh-uh, my darling Farah. Let's just eat in silence." Papa's wrinkled eyes looked dazed. I thought it was Wystan's doing, but he looked genuinely surprised as well.
It was a quiet breakfast session where the clanking metal utensils and the clinking glasses did all the talking. Wystan did not even get to say what he wanted to say to Papa. Not that he didn't try, but every time the Warrior King was about to say something, Papa cleared his throat as though he had something important to deliver. Alas, his action was followed by nothing but continued shoving food down his throat.
Once Papa had his fill, he practically dashed out of the door.
"Told you we weren't expecting to have breakfast with him," I complained while stabbing the egg sandwich with my fork.
