The day at the Von Ryker estate was a lot like any other day. The staff members were completing their daily chores and the butlers continued with their duties around the house. Today’s morning kitchen duty belonged to James Noble, a young man who had been working for about a year at the estate. His sister worked under the maid while he worked under the head butler. The young man’s skills extended from more than just the kitchen but he was an excellent cook, making a mix of different types of cuisine from all over the world. 

After proceeding with a few extra flips of the French toast, he slid the two pieces gently onto the plate before preparing the tray and sliding a lid over it. During his short time at the estate, the master’s only daughter had begun to take a liking to him to the point he was willing to talk to her more than he did his fellow coworkers. She was a klutzy little thing but she always seemed to have a big heart and a great personality, and that was something he respected. Nodding at the tray, he scooped it up and carried it with an expert skill down the halls of the estate to provide the food to the young Miss. 

That was until he heard is name being called. Stopping in his walk he watched as the young Miss nearly toppled herself for, what he could only assume, wasn’t the first time. Lifting the tray high in the air to brace his body for impact by planting his feet; luckily she didn’t tackle him and he let out the breath he was holding in. His arm lowered from the air as he stared intensely at the paper in her hand, scanning over every word and giving it his full attention. Pulling his head back and standing upright, the corners of his lips curled into a small smile. “Well done Miss, there isn’t a soul in this manor who doubted your talents. And now they are recognized by the outer world as well.” 

It wasn’t common to see James smile. Everything was easier when he didn’t smile and kept a straight face towards most things, people and situations. However, Freya always seemed to pull something out of him and he wore his emotions a bit more openly; even if they were small and barely noticeable, for those who paid attention, they could tell what he was thinking. “Breakfast is prepared.” He said with a gesture with his free hand for her to enter into the dining room. 

Following her in, he pulled out her chair for her as she sat down. Placing the tray in front of her, he lifted the lid exposing the breakfast of the morning. French toast with a small cup of syrup, freshly cut apple in the shape of a rose, hot chocolate, three strips of bacon and a glass orange juice.