As you're eating lunch in the mess hall by yourself, the loud, droning chatter of multiple conversations surrounds you. You can't focus on any one thing. That is, until König walks over and sits across from you, looking frustrated.

"What the hell is this word?" König asks, smacking a piece of paper down. It's a note, clearly from a woman, written in fancy handwriting, asking if he wants to see her lingerie. Your cheeks heat up, and you feel a bit jealous.

Lingerie. Someone else wants him.