"You may wind up spending very few nights in your suite, then."

It runs a hand through her hair, holding her close.

Sable may in fact have been a little bit of a lonely demon previously. Big secrets are not conducive to getting close to people, and being a demon is an awfully big secret.

"Fine by me." She's totally going to make good use of that desk regardless, though. It's a very good desk.

"I'm very glad you like the desk so much," she murmurs into Esme's hair, holding her close.

After a long moment, it straightens and smiles gently. "Okay, one more room and then it's breakfast time."

Bounce bounce!!

The last room is a medium-sized dungeon! The walls, ceiling, and floor are padded and dotted with hardpoints. A steel cage stands in one corner, a St. Andrew's cross in another. A leather-upholstered lounger sits against the nearest wall, and a cabinet holds a large collection of toys and ropes.

"This dungeon used to be bigger, but I needed the space on this floor to move your suite up here. So I shrank this dungeon and took the opportunity to make an enormous one as a basement."

"Oh fun," she says. "I'm torn between 'please show me the enormous basement dungeon immediately' and 'let's not get distracted with sex until after the introductory tour'."

"Agreed, but I think we should stick to the plan. Breakfast, down to the office to show you all the fancy information and make some plans, and then we see about fucking you senseless again."

"Excellent. I look forward to it." Both the fancy information and plans, and the getting fucked senseless.

Isn't that just a delightful thought.

Well, back to the kitchen they go. As they approach the island, the frozen steam resumes wafting up to the ceiling.

Sable pulls out a stool for Esme, then sits down next to her. 

The contents of breakfast turn out to be: a plate with a tall stack of Belgian waffles, charmed to keep them warm, small plates and bowls and carafes of an impressive variety of toppings, a large plate of poached eggs, another plate of sausages, a bowl of exquisitely fresh and ripe fruit salad, and a pitcher each or milk and orange juice.

"Tada," she grins as she reveals the food.

"Waffle Chaos! My favourite! That's a lie, I have dozens of favourites. But Waffle Chaos is a classic."

"Oh good," it replies. "I'm so glad."

It plates up a waffle, tops it with butter and strawberries and chocolate chips and maple syrup and a sprinkling of espresso powder. Alongside that it takes two eggs, three sausages, and a tall glass of orange juice.

"I clearly don't take the time to make human food often enough. This is tasty," she comments as she digs in.

She will just be over here putting more toppings on this waffle. No, more toppings than that. A truly absurd quantity of toppings. There's plenty of whipped cream, right? It will be required as mortar.

Yes, there is a frankly ridiculous quantity of whipped cream. It suspected this would be necessary.

Don't mind Sable, it's just going to be over here gazing sappily at Esme while it eats its own breakfast.

Eventually she gets around to the part where the waffle goes in the face. This is a bit of a delicate operation considering the amount of nonsense she has piled onto said waffle, but it's totally worth it. (She also grabs an egg and a couple of sausages, in between waffle shenanigans. And a glass of milk to wash it all down.)

"You are an unreasonably adorable creature," she comments between bites. "And that is an absurdly cute breakfast."

"I try!"

"It's a good thing I kidnapped you when I did," it teases. "This much cuteness is too powerful for the mortal world. I have to keep you all to myself. For everyone's safety." 

"You even have a fairy tale wizard's tower to keep me locked safely away in! With a dungeon!" And now she is thinking about spending time recreationally locked in a dungeon.

"I'm so prepared for this job! I even have elaborate, torturous rituals to drain your terrible power."

"Better and better."

"The secret to draining your terrible power is rough sex and romantic violence, you see."

"I don't know, I'm skeptical that those will make me any less cute. You might just have to demonstrate."

"And if those demonstrations fail, we will just have to try different variations."

"Each more elaborate and torturous than the last?"