[There is something about the relationship, in the way Ignis describes the pastry diligently crafted for his prince through extreme effort and consideration. While Itachi had some glimpse into an idea, this further confirms it—the intensity of Ignis’ fealty to this person is an aspect of his identity. It is rooted in his essence. They may not carry the same blood, but the bond nonetheless speaks to a depth far from ordinary.

Itachi’s eyes lower to his plate as he slices off another delicate corner of pastry and brings it to his mouth.

This man learned how to bake, because his prince wanted to eat something specific. A life in service—no one expected anything else. The burning tug of envy he feels then is real and distracting, so he pushes it away.]

I haven’t tried the sweets at the shop, but they appeared well made. There is also a bakery on Summer Way that seems to occasionally sell dango. [He quietly takes another bite of the pastry, and another, finishing it off in silence. Then he lays down the fork with a clink of metal on porcelain.] I appreciate your courtesy. You’re clearly skilled, and though I don’t consider your earlier behavior a true indiscretion, I shouldn’t take up any more of your time tonight.