Standing by your chair, Nightmare’s eye lingered on you for a couple seconds, before turning towards the exquisite meal you were being served. Although his mouth was salivating at the scent, his stomach soon pooled with an uneasy feeling, his brows narrowing in a mixture of confusion and frustration. Clearing his throat to advert your attention to him, Nightmare took your plate, keeping it away from you.

Pardon me, your Highness. I do hope you’ll excuse my sudden display. Be reassured, my Monarch, nothing bad shall come your way. Although, I do have reason to believe your meal has been tampered with.

Glaring at the now nervous chef, Nightmare gritted his teeth, offering a slightly forced smile. He was furious that someone in your castle dared to even attempt to harm you. It made his blood boil, his tentacles stiffening in a defensive manner.