Noblesse Oblige n. the obligation of honorable, generous, and responsible behavior associated with high rank or birth

Fiora flicked a piece of flour off her blouse. She was glad she'd had the sense to dress down for this encounter. She had expected something low brow from the Artisan of War – what little time they had spent together off the field had been spent with Fiora trying to convince him to acquire some other clothing - but nothing quite this…messy.

They were in the kitchen of Sinful Succulence. Apparently the Fallen Angel was base enough in her own pursuits to work in this cramped space, without windows and baking from the heat of the stove.

Pantheon stood behind the table, armor protected from the rigors of his current activities by a white apron and helmet topped with a white chef's hat. The pastry bag he used to pipe colorful toppings onto his creations looked humorously undersized in his massive hands.

Fiora stood in the middle of the one clear space in the kitchen as she watched him. "And you enjoy doing such things?"

Not that she couldn't already tell. He was practically humming under the helmet.

He paused in his piping, looking at her from across the counter. "Surely you have some pastime beside the sword. I admit this isn't considered a worthy use of time for a Rakkor, but…" He paused, frowning. Not that she could see the frown, but suspected she simply used her same highly trained duelist senses that she used to read an opponent's movements. "But I consider you a friend, so I decided to share this with you."

A friend? Fiora had rivals, and a few allies; she did not have friends. But, from what she had learned of the Rakkor, he did not have many in that category either.

He saved her the need to respond by holding out the finished confection.

Fiora peered at it. "What is it?"

"It's a cupcake." She could hear Pantheon smile under his helmet. "It's a dessert eaten by those peasants you like to talk about so much."

"No need for such lip," she replied as she took it, though her voice held no bite.

Fiora studied the thing. The cake itself seemed quite standard, though the shape suggested the shape of the pan, something the bakers in her household never would have allowed to be seen outside the kitchen. The top was wider than the base, which seemed like a design flaw to Fiora, though it seemed to be intentional, given the neat rows of these cupcakes were all shaped the same. A hard, sugary glaze sat atop the cake, carefully piped and spiraling around the top to end in a delicate point.

And one other thing.

"This one has paper on it."

"They're supposed to. Just peel it off and try it already."

Fiora peeled the paper off carefully. No matter how hard she tried, some of the cake stuck to the paper and crumbs pulled loose and fell onto her slacks and to the ground. She refused to let him see her annoyance at being unable to properly do this task that apparently even the lowly yeoman could. She dropped the paper in the rubbish bin as neatly as she could manage.

Holding the cake with her fingers, she tried to determine the manner in which one ate such things. It gave slightly as she gripped it, shedding more crumbs. Fiora could not remember the last time she had held food in her fingers; since she had been old enough to remember, she had been taught that food was to be interacted with one's utensils, not one's hands. After studying the cake for a minute, she brought it to her mouth and bit off a small piece of overhanging cake and its accompanying frosting.

She chewed. And took another bite. And chewed some more.

Pantheon had waited patiently while she observed his gift, but as soon as she finished the question burst from his lips. "So tell me, does it offend your noble tongue?"

Fiora licked a wayward bit of frosting off her lip. "Do not have it said I judge simply on appearances." Her gaze may have lingered on his bizarre attire a bit longer than was polite. "It is quite good. You have talent here, Rakkor. Though I would prefer you not put down the spear."

Pantheon let out a hearty laugh and handed her another, which she took, allowing herself a smile as she did.