Bree helped Dallas clean up the kitchen while they were waiting, teasing him by saying that she understood why he had so many kitchen staff members now.
Pizza wasn’t exactly a breakfast food, but Dallas had been up long enough that he didn’t mind—and Bree apparently didn’t either, if the way she hungrily dug into their meal was any indication.
“Ooh,” she said after she had taken her first bite. “This is heavenly. I haven’t had pizza in forever.”
“Is it not a food that witches normally eat?” Dallas asked. He had been well-taught in warlockian history and culture, but the modern aspects and characteristics of daily life were still things that he had yet to fully figure out.
“Oh, no, it is,” Bree said. “It’s just usually saved for special occasions, like birthdays, or parties. It’s an easy way to feed lots of people, so it’s a typical food for gatherings, but not for normal meals.”
Dallas supposed that made sense.
