I'm not going through a cookbook a month, even for you two.

[ He rolls his eyes at them, since their play at subtlety wasn't even a little convincing, even if there is still a smile fighting to break free around the corner of his lips. He clearly doesn't mind either way. Luckily for them, he actually really does enjoy cooking. And even the concept of keeping house for family - at least when it's appreciated, anyway. He's so used to keeping his own space tidy that it had been easy to extend that in their Inn quarters. He doesn't see that changing much here.

Then again, he doesn't mind that much, either. He doesn't have a whole lot of other responsibilities on his plate right now, so why not?

But instead of dwelling on that, he lets his hands rest on Hilda's shoulders and gives her a nudge towards the large glass-paned doors he can see from here, intent on distraction before they come up with ridiculous ideas for the kitchen. ]

Let's go take a look at the terrace. I bet we could put a garden in out here. You know, besides the plants we're using for cooking. Or that Claude's plotting people's untimely demises with.