Sherry, I believe we have talked about this during the previous meal already, but master is not the kind of person who would ever order his slaves not to eat the same kind of food as him. He is a person who enjoys the company of others during his meals, so please, have a seat next to me and join us so that we could eat this meal together.
Roxanne said so, finally causing Sherry to sit down. Was she really expecting me to order her not to eat the same kind of food we were going to eat just now and only make do with the leftovers while eating them off the floor? Now that really makes me wonder if this is a matter of preference, or perhaps something else entirely?
Well, whatever I guess. As long as Sherry will not complain and is going to obediently sit down to eat with us, there will be no causes for any kinds of interventions on my end.
Taking my mind off of such things, I took a healthy serving of Sherrys Borscht from the pot in the center of the table and poured it into my own plate. And as for that comes next, uhm. . .
According to what Roxanne has taught me about this world, distributing soup to all who are sitting at the dining table is one of the responsibilities of the head of the household, or in other words, the responsibility that falls onto my shoulders since I am both the leader of our Party and the master of both Sherry and Roxanne. While a bit atypical from the normal familial structure, I guess those are reasons enough for me to consider myself the head of the household, and I am sure that neither of the girls are going to raise any kinds of complaints against this. After all, Aside form that one argument we had about the matter of my will and setting Roxanne free in the case of my untimely death, she never questioned any of my other decisions so far, and whenever we were going out into the town, she was always either walking right by my side or just half a step behind me, as if she was following some kind of slave etiquette. Is there even such a thing to begin with? I have no idea, so maybe I should try asking her about that some other time when we are not going to be occupied by other, more important matters. But let us get down to the soup distribution business. If I remember the other things that Roxanne was telling me about correctly, then after the head of the household pours the soup for himself, the next person who should receive the serving should the one who was responsible for the making of the soup in the first place, which would mean that this next person should be Sherry. . . . .
*SHIVER! ! !* *SHIVER! ! !*
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . !!!
What the hell was that just now? This intense pressure and malicious air, as if someone was glaring at me with the evil intentions that could not have been more clear even if they tried. . . . . do not tell me. . . . . .
Yes! Roxanne was the one who emanated this malicious air. She was still smiling of course, but the way she was keeping her eyes closed and the ever so slight way that the corners of her lips were trembling as if she was doing all withing her power to stop herself from grimacing in displeasure. . . . . . . . . oh yeah, there is no mistaking it. She is definitely jealous! Jealous of me giving the serving of the soup to Sherry instead of her in the first place! Okay, all right, I get it, I get it! See, Roxanne, I am giving the first serving of the soup to you on the double, so please, stop glaring so much daggers at me already!
H-Here you go, Roxanne.
Oh, You are giving me the first serving of the soup? That is so thoughtful of you. Thank you very much, master.
Rather than me being thoughtful, it is more like I have been intimidated into doing so, but let us not dwell on that for too long, because that is simply not worth it. I just anted to uphold the proper etiquette by giving Sherry, the chef who made the Borscht, the first serving of her own dish, that is it, nothing more to it. Besides, since this is supposed to be a Dwarven dish, she is probably the one who is looking forward to eating it the most. So now that Roxanne has been served her own portion, maybe I can finally give it to her as well?
Here is your serving, Sherry.
Eh?! S-So master really is interested in those kinds of things?!
Both of them had a strange reaction. Did I say something weird without really meaning to?
I mean, do not get me wrong, master! Being loved by you is definitely a good thing, and I. . . and I enjoy it immensely. . . .
I. . . I think so as well. . . . and I have been prepared that for something like that to come up sooner or later. . . . ]
Okay, what are they saying now? I only asked them if Humans have a Human-specific Job, but as soon as I said that, they both started to freak out.
Ladies? What are you going on about?
Human seem to be a race with an abnormally high, nigh-insatiable sex drive, so. . . .
Sherry began her explanations, but honestly, I do not know if I like where she is going with this.
Even animals have homosexuality, rape, non-reproductive sex, family killing, and infanticide, but they do all of these things because they are being driven by their instincts. Humans, on the other hand, are the only known race that can do all of those things simply to feel the pleasure coming from them. Animals can live according to their instincts, but humans have evolved and adapted to use their brains to make decisions, rather than relying solely on their instincts. We became more flexible, but in the process of doing that, we lost the breaks on our desires.
So. . . ?
So since that seems to be a defining feature of the Human race, their race-specific Job. . . is Sex Maniac.
Human-specific Job. . . . is a Sex Maniac? Because of their nigh-insatiable sex drive?
Yeah, that. . . that is definitely very human like.