"You wish to feed the King gruel?"

His voice was laced with utter disbelief, and slight disdain; may it be, he was a servant, but still, he had opinions. George smiled, his heart warming at the sight of his friend defending him. Monro, however, frowned, and wiped George's optimistic expression away with one glare. Reynolds still had his mouth in the form of an 'o', his face contorted into a slightly annoyed scowl. Monro was stubborn and making nonsense requests, and he was going to have none of it, especially since it was directed at the King of Great Britain and Ireland - he had too much power, Monro. Or he believed himself to have such. Reynolds turned back to you, frantic.

"Please, we mustn’t let him-“ he muttered, his head leaning. As much as he tried, he needed his older sibling to drive his options; you.