*Sorry, Jalan, she just isn't moved by feudal titles. His question about the waitstaff doesn't score him any points, either. She gives him a decidedly unamused look along with her answer.*

The waiters are satyrs. If you're going to insult them, you can go buy your own lunch.

*The edge in her voice softens just a little as she continues.*

I suppose you're from somewhere without much variety of body type. Fine. Look past what they are, for a moment, and focus on what they're doing.