[Susan's smile only widens, and she takes the cake with great care, surprised at its softness. It doesn't look like any cake she's had before, and she examines it closely, fascinated. It doesn't smell like any cake she's had before - though in the earthiness of its smell, she can at least start to see why Nadine compared it to coffee before.]
[She breaks off a small piece - just a few crumbs, really - and rolls it experimentally between her fingers for a moment, looking up at Nadine.]
Ye're too kind, Nadine, truly. I'll pay 'ee back for it someday.
[She may, perhaps, have cause to regret so open an offer - but she has to offer something, else it's just charity, and Pat Delgado's daughter is no charity case. In any case, if she has to pay more than she bargained for, perhaps it's worth it, for genuine kindness in this place.]
[She smiles again, and pops the small, soft piece of cake into her mouth. Then - her eyes widening a little at the sheer richness and sweetness of the taste, even from so small a mouthful - she quickly raises the rest of the cobbler to her mouth and takes a much bigger bite. As it breaks, some of the softer batter oozes out, like splitting honeycomb, and just as sweet. Sweet, fragrant, and earthy, and with a strange bitterness that seems to only heighten the sweetness...]
[She should save some of it, and at least offer some to Cersei, but before she's really noticed, she's eaten the whole thing. It sits deliciously heavy in the stomach, but seems almost to melt on the tongue, and the sweetness lingers, the thick richness of it, like honey and coffee and spice-cake all combined. More sugar, she's sure, than she's ever eaten in one go before, and the wastefulness of it should horrify her, but instead, she laughs, only a little sheepish.]
no subject
[She breaks off a small piece - just a few crumbs, really - and rolls it experimentally between her fingers for a moment, looking up at Nadine.]
Ye're too kind, Nadine, truly. I'll pay 'ee back for it someday.
[She may, perhaps, have cause to regret so open an offer - but she has to offer something, else it's just charity, and Pat Delgado's daughter is no charity case. In any case, if she has to pay more than she bargained for, perhaps it's worth it, for genuine kindness in this place.]
[She smiles again, and pops the small, soft piece of cake into her mouth. Then - her eyes widening a little at the sheer richness and sweetness of the taste, even from so small a mouthful - she quickly raises the rest of the cobbler to her mouth and takes a much bigger bite. As it breaks, some of the softer batter oozes out, like splitting honeycomb, and just as sweet. Sweet, fragrant, and earthy, and with a strange bitterness that seems to only heighten the sweetness...]
[She should save some of it, and at least offer some to Cersei, but before she's really noticed, she's eaten the whole thing. It sits deliciously heavy in the stomach, but seems almost to melt on the tongue, and the sweetness lingers, the thick richness of it, like honey and coffee and spice-cake all combined. More sugar, she's sure, than she's ever eaten in one go before, and the wastefulness of it should horrify her, but instead, she laughs, only a little sheepish.]
...Aye, you were right. I do like chucklit.