Another Quaint Midgardian Inn, Part I: Here We Go Again

The humans have traveled to be with the male’s mother and her husband.  As their abode is quite small, this necessitates that the humans lodge in a local inn.  I have learned that many Midgardian inns are indistinguishable from one another.  Same key cards that I can nudge not to work, same room, same temperamental heating/cooling device, same bed, same bathroom,

inn-sinkcake

Same little cake by the sink.  Sigyn, STOP!  We have been over this and over this.  Yes, it looks and smells delicious.  Yes, it is called a “cake,” but no, it is not actually cake.  You cannot eat it.

Oh, very well.   Yes, it does bear more than a passing resemblance to that frou-frou confection known as a St. Honoré,

Sthonore3

but I guarantee that it is not made of puff pastry, pastry cream, choux puffs and caramelized sugar.*

Just let the “cake” be, dearest.  I will magic us up some proper treats later.  Promise.

>|: [

* Did I really just write that?  It is possible that Sigyn and I have spent too much time watching the food channels on the humans’ television device.  I shall have to desist.  Such intimate knowledge of…of  pastry is not befitting the god-ruler of this realm — or any other.

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