They kept their distance and grunted uncertainly at this new, seemingly confident young lady. They did say she'd been raised as a rich girl and, contrary to yesterday, it was starting to shine through. None of them felt the urge to test her words so instead they split off and went about their business, giving just a few interested glances over their shoulder to at least take the opportunity to eye her body, careful as she might be not to cover it. Still, it didn't take very many minutes - until almost 8:30 in fact - for them to have laden a tray with a freshly made, still warm loaf of bread and various small pots of conserves and condiments to put on them.<br/><br/>"Don't forget to visit soon!" came the parting message, accompanied by a few raucous laughs and the feel of several eyes taking a very keen interest in her retreating backside. Still, she had what she was sent for and could return to the room...<br/><br/>Beneath the soapy water, Quentin was lounging and letting the water keep him half afloat. Only his head was fully out of the water, but his hair was wet so clearly that hadn't always been the case. He glanced to her, and automatically replaced his cool, thoughtful expression with one of mild disapproval. Regardless he raised one arm from the water, dragging a coating of white foam with it, and flicked his hand toward a point nearby.<br/><br/>"Put it there, and cut me a couple of slices. Did the kitchen hands give you any trouble again?" He'd lounged long enough, so he drove his backside down and sat up, til half of his torso was exposed. The room was warm, but his chest couldn't help but chill as he sat up. Curiously enough this brief flush of cold gave him some inspiration, but he tucked it away for the immediate moment and instead dried one hand with which to eat.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>