[ nodding back to angeal, kabru joins laios at the table outside, brightening up as he orders a breakfast sandwich (normie food... no monsters... he's always a little relieved, particularly when dining with laios— then again, the guy's favourite food was cheesecake or something, so he remains a total mystery to kabru). for a moment, the whole ordeal seems a bit less dire— that's the thing with being around laios, maybe. the way that the king is. there's an optimism to him that kabru finds infectious— that is, until he's strayed in the face for staring at the staff.

kabru does a distinct double-take, quickly gathering up a few napkins and handing them over to laios.

once outside and seated, safely away from the trajectory of the spray bottle (magical spray bottle... that seems, in kabru's view, to be some sort of pervert repellent... what has his majesty been up to in this strange new world then, huh? he wants to know), kabru sits back, eyes on the street, before that gaze is quickly switched back to laios. always— examining. ]

Were you planning on telling me about the water bottle now, or after I give you an update on what happened in the dungeon? [ there's a thin smile for laios— this kabru seems. more at ease around him. there's even something very faintly teasing in his demeanour. like he's used to this; used to laios, and laios' quirks. the man has grown on him immensely, after all. ]

But, fine I won't keep you in suspense.

[ pauses.

to keep him in suspense. ]

One thing at a time. [ is he really doing this? kabru the storyteller. another pause. this is a dramatic story. this is a story that... kabru is making dramatic. ]

Falin lives, you become king, and uh— I'm your royal advisor. You know. Hand of the king. We do pretty well, considering. You're managing.