"Ay, happily, then." For a while, there's only the process of assembling crepes, settling them onto plates and filling them with sweet things. Afterward, Laertes gathers all of their work onto a big tray, then gestures Lancelot to follow him as he makes his breakfast rounds.

First is a plate left in his own bedroom, while Sagramore sleeps; Laertes shuffles the tray to one hand so that he can lay a kiss on Sagramore's brow before departing again. Next is Tress's room, then Enjolras's, plates laid outside doors. "And next, I would go to thine own room, but happily the man appears," says Laertes. "Shall we eat in the café? we'll have a plate each, and I can lay out the other plates for any who want them."