"Hullo, hullo there," you say, acknowledging the nods and smiles as you make your way forward to the serving-basket. "Any left?"
You are only two bites into the sticky bun when a herald strides up to you, her teal tabard ruffling in the breeze. "With me, if you please, Bandochel."
When you realize you're being led straight through the castle's main doors proper, you wolf down the bun quick as you can. It wouldn't do to track crumbs onto His Grace's deep-blue carpets.
Entrez