"I'm sorry that I've caused you pain, Gale. I'll make sure to never use the same ingredients and spices," Swan said worriedly. "I'm sorry…"
Gale smiled, "You don't need to keep saying sorry. I know you mean well. It's just unfortunate that I keep recalling the past as I tasted the same food from long ago."
Gale got up and walked towards Swan's chair. He lifted her, and sat her on his lap, "This is much better. It's been a while since you sat on my lap. I think the last time was two months ago?"
"Y-yes, the throne room is too cold, even during autumn. Sorry, I can't accompany you."
"Why do you keep saying sorry? Is it because of the food you made for me?" Gale chuckled. He pinched Swan's chin so she would lift her head to stare at him—at least at his blindfold. "I like what you made. It's not your fault the food gives me nostalgia."
"Still—"
"You should have your dinner now. You're still too thin for my liking, you know," Gale joked.
