Lunch

"Boq! Boq, come here immediately," Nessa calls.

He is there, looking weary.

"Yes, Madame?"

"It's lunch time. Make me my lunch!"

He fixes her a chicken sandwich, with lettuce and tomato. A glass of melonade to wash it down.

She scarfs it down, politely wiping her mouth with a napkin.

"Thank you, Boq. You're dismissed."

Boq wonders if perhaps next time he should poison her lunch.