(I'm posting as his character for now, until he gets back, as he suggested.)

Vestiago pondered Ilario's words for a moment. He held up a hand to wait, and walked into the larder. When he came back out, he was carrying an onion and a large knife, as well as a slab of granite used as a cutting board. He set the slab on one of the smaller tables in the room and set to dicing the onion. His huge hands held the knife with surprising delicacy, and he moved it with the skill of a master, in seconds the onion was minced more finely than even the head palace chef could manage. 

After that was done, he brushed the chopped onion onto a platter then set the knife aside, and before anyone could blink, slammed his massive fist onto the table top. There was a sound of splintering wood as the table collapsed, also on the floor was the thick slab of polished granite, in pieces.

He said nothing, but looked pointedly at Ilario, before breaking into a broad smile.