"No allergies, and no veganism." She peeked over Key's shoulder. Fridges were strange things. This one was filled with a fifty/fifty mixture of unhealthy and wholesome food. It nearly all looked alien to her, because she was so used to seeing the end product, and not the ingredients. For the first time, she felt embarrassed about that, and turned away to hide her blush.

When asked about how she made sandwiches, Priscilla cringed a bit. "I've ... never made a sandwich before. Usually I ask the staff, and they make it for me." Priscilla glanced at Key. He couldn't think of her as anything other then spoiled, entitled. But could she help the way she was raised, and the life she had been born to?