[The cloth napkin on the table is easily unfolded with a flick of her wrist before she lays it on her lap. Picking up her knife, she works on cutting at her chicken with a delicate but precise touch, lifting small morsels to her mouth. She's always been a stickler for good table manners, especially during business meetings.]
[Mm, beef-and-bacon pie. Robb glances at his napkin for a second, shrugs and just starts eating without bothering with it, taking bigger bites than Une, but making sure that he doesn't accidentally mess something up or anything.]
[Trying not to judge. Being raised the way she was, a little snobbery is inherent. She does her best to fight her nature in this regard though. Considering she found him fishing for coins in a fountain, he likely hasn't eaten in awhile.]
[It's part of it--cold ramen noodles don't really do much for your appetite--but at the same time, it's been so long since he tasted anything from Winterfell that he can't really help it.
Once he's done he checks out the menu again.]
How do you feel about lemon cakes? Or, I don't know, venison pies?
[He smiles, then looks down at the menu again as the waiter comes by and asks, And what will you have, madam, sir?]
Venison pie for me. Chicken as well, the kind stuffed with carrots, chestnuts and prune.
[Jon had told him about the meals on the Wall, once or twice, and he'd wondered how they tasted like. Now he's got an opportunity to find out, and damn if he's letting it pass.]
[Honestly, it's like watching a child in a candy store and she supposes she can't fault him for that. She hasn't known hardship the way he has. They say a single act of kindness extended to a man in his darkest hour may very well buy you his life. Of course, that wasn't always the case but she's hoping for a bit of luck.
In turn, she orders a small lemon cake for dessert along with a shot of espresso. She won't be sleeping tonight. Tomorrow, she deals with another flurry of meetings, including one with the mayor's representatives.]
[When the order comes, he just--he can't help but smile, at this. It's so much like what he used to eat, only updated to fit with modern-day tastes, and he digs in, savors the taste and the bittersweet memories that come along with it.
The show's inaccurate, but if there's one thing he's grateful to it for, it's that it inspired a resurgence of interest in the kinds of foods he once ate.]
[There's a few crumbs left on her plate once she finishes her meal, dabbing at the corners of her mouth with her napkin. Eyeing him from across the table, she notices the food caught in his stubble. He really should invest in a razor. Perhaps she's overstepping her bounds but she reaches out to wipe at his mouth with her napkin once he's sated.]
[Three boxes. Three boxes. Okay, so most of that is going to his family, but he is keeping the third one all for himself, he can afford to be selfish there.]
Just drop me off a few blocks away, I can get there.
[He glances at the chauffeur for a moment, unsure of what to do, then sighs and lets him take the boxes before he gets in, and he still feels a little uncomfortable in this car.]
[Another laugh. Sure, in the first few days it was a bit scary, but he's managed to scare them off, for the most part. The bar brawl the day after the Halloween that Jon had conveniently forgotten about had helped.]
Nah, I'm fine. They know not to mess with me. ['The Young Wolf,' he'd been called once, and some part of that still survives to the present.]
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