She shook her head in disbelief, biting her lip as she tried to process it.
"We have nothing like this in Elfhaven. Our entertainment consists primarily of musical performances, dramatic readings, games of skill and luck, and combat exhibitions."
She watched anyway, then tilted her head. "Why does the rabbit speak? And why does the bald man not simply use his dwarven rifle effectively? What a buffoon he is!"
I chuckled. "That’s kind of the whole point. Bugs, the bunny, always outsmarting Elmer, the man with the gun—that’s the whole joke."
"Fascinating," Elsa murmured, genuinely entranced by the talking rabbit’s antics.
After watching for another moment, she seemed to remember the food.
She picked up the plate and stared at the pancakes with open curiosity, then frowned at the fork like it was some alien artifact. "I am unfamiliar with this manner of eating utensil."
I raised an eyebrow. "It’s a fork. You use it to—"
Elsa cut me off by opening her mouth wide and pointing to it while eyeing me expectantly.
"You can’t be fucking serious," I said flatly.
Elsa just kept her mouth open. Her eyes said what her open mouth couldn’t: I am absolutely serious.
With a sigh from deep enough inside me to start in my toes, I took the plate and fork from her hands. "Fine. One bite. I’m just going to show you how this works. See?"
I cut off a piece of pancake, making sure to get some syrup and butter on it, and deliberately piled it high.
I wasn’t about to be her personal servant, but I also wanted her first taste of pancakes to be a good one.
I shoved the heaping forkful into her open mouth, watching with mildly sadistic satisfaction as her eyes bulged slightly at the unexpectedly large amount.
For a moment, Elsa seemed to gag as she struggled to close her mouth around the massive bite.
Her cheeks chipmunked comically, but then her expression changed as she began to chew.
Her eyes widened with delight.
She made a sound that was somewhere between a moan and a squeal.
It was the kind of noise you typically needed to subscribe to an OnlyFans to hear.
"By the Lustful Gods!" she exclaimed after finally swallowing.
With her next squeal, her voice reached a pitch that probably had dogs in the next county perking up their ears and wincing.
"What divine creation is this? The sweet amber liquid, the soft yet substantive cake, the tiny blue gems of flavor exploding in my mouth! What culinary madness is—" She cut herself off as she snatched the plate back from my hands. "Give me that!"
Any pretense of regal dining etiquette vanished faster than a cooler full of Milwaukee’s Best at a frat party.
Elsa began shoveling pancakes into her mouth at an alarming rate.
Syrup dripped down her chin as she alternated between laughing at the cartoon antics on the TV and making curious noises around mouthfuls of pancake that for some reason had Grey Jr. reacting in my jeans in his own mysterious ways.
"These are called pancakes," I said, unable to keep from chuckling at her open delight. "The amber liquid is maple syrup. The blue things are blueberries."
"Pan-cakes," Elsa repeated through a mouthful. "Cakes of the pan. Magnificent!"
She suddenly burst out laughing at something on the screen, nearly choking on her food.
She pointed excitedly at the TV with her fork. "The rabbit is wearing female attire yet again! And the bald man truly cannot tell the difference! Such brazen foolishness!"
I was much more entertained by watching Elsa than the cartoon on TV.
There was something bizarrely charming about watching this supposedly regal princess sitting cross-legged on my guest bed, wearing my oversized t-shirt while simultaneously devouring pancakes and laughing uncontrollably at Looney Tunes.
I mean, it was probably mainly because she was so hot it was actually almost offensive, but I wasn’t ready to admit that to myself.
"I was thinking," I said when she’d calmed down slightly, "we should probably get you some clothes of your own if you’re sticking around for a bit. Even if you move on—"
"There will be no moving on," she cut me off in a severe tone before shoving another bite of pancake in her mouth.
I ignored that and finished my thought. "Anyway, I might be able to find an express delivery service from the city, at least for some basics. Or we could drive into town later to get you stuff ourselves, but you can’t go in dressed like this."
"Drive?" Elsa asked, licking syrup from her fingers in a way that was far more distracting than it had any right to be, especially after seeing what she could do using her tongue with that ribbon last night.
"Yeah, in my truck," I explained as I tried to focus on the conversation and not the finger-licking goodness. "It’s a vehicle —a machine that moves people around. Like a carriage, but without horses or whatever you got in your world. It’s powered by— you know what, it doesn’t matter. It’s like a big metal box that goes vroom."
Elsa just shrugged. "Whatever you think is best, Sir Grey," she said absently just before her attention was drawn back to the TV where Wile E. Coyote was now plummeting off a cliff. After the crash, she asked, "How is he still alive?"
A few minutes later, she’d demolished the entire stack of pancakes. She handed the empty plate to me, then looked at me with surprising seriousness.
"I need you to leave the room for a moment," she announced.
"Why?" I asked, confused by the abrupt shift.
Elsa looked slightly embarrassed, and I could spot a blush creeping up her cheeks in real time. "I need to... express my appreciation for the meal in a manner that would be undignified in company."