"Aren't you being a bit too partial to Mr. Mitchell?" Bard half-joked.
As Bard's jaw muscles worked, his cheeks bulged rhythmically.
Apparently, tonight's beef was quite a challenge, but Bard was patiently chewing.
"Am I?" Winters gritted his teeth and stabbed at the pieces of beef on his plate, fuming, "Later, I must call Lannis over and ask him properly—how, with so much dining expense, can it still be so bad?"
Bard swallowed the practically unchewable beef without changing his expression, glanced at the slaughterhouse-like plate in front of Winters, and kindly reminded him, "Don't waste food."
"Alright, alright, you eat it." Winters surrendered completely, just like in the past, pushing all the meat on his plate onto Bard's: "All for you."
Bard gladly accepted the offering: "It's meat, how could it not be delicious?"
"Yes." Winters sighed deeply, "I'm also quite curious about that."
...
