He was wrong. In the end, they indeed had lunch.
Two magnificently done sandwiches, boasting thick slabs of crisped bacon, fried eggs, and savory sausage laced with a heavy helping of melted cheese and ripe tomatoes, were waiting for them, nicely packed in a small wicker chest beneath the seat.
"Mmh," Basil moaned around his first massive bite, his fingers instantly catching a drip of cheese. "This is good."
The King nodded, taking an initial bite that was easily twice the size of his son's. His father had always lived on the fast track when it came to eating, a trait that set him apart from all his brothers. There were uncles in the family with double the thirst, and certainly others with double the stomach, but there was not a single man in there who could match the terrifying speed of his father's jaw.
