[He laughs at her goofy dramatics, hiding his still-full-of-cake mouth behind his knuckles. These days, he'll take any excuse to laugh. Distractions are a hot commodity in a castle whose residents have accumulated enough mental scars lately to qualify the place as an unofficial psych ward.]
no subject
Now you're making it sound like a cult.
[He holds his plate up.]
All hail the cake.