Jason’s eyes went wide.
"There’s food? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?"
"Are you mute? You made me eat all those potatoes downstairs! When you marry into the King family, you’d better learn to speak up!"
I’d had enough.
"Jason, we’re not — and never will be — in the kind of relationship you’re imagining."
He ignored me, looked me up and down like an emperor picking a concubine, then took out his phone and sent a voice message to his mom.
"Mom, I met her! Not bad — a bit mouthy, but pretty. Passes the first test!"
After sending it, he suddenly turned pale, ran to the restroom to throw up, then returned satisfied.
"Waiter! Are there more meals? I wasn’t full earlier — bring me ten more!"
I wondered if he was addicted to getting free stuff.
He didn’t finish all ten and even stuffed two quail eggs up his sleeve for later.
"Listen — since we’re traveling together, we follow King family rules. If you get hungry, only eat the potatoes I packed in the outer pocket of my bag. Don’t buy outside food — waste of money."
He patted the potato-stuffed backpack proudly.
I stared at him, searching for a trace of humor, but found none.
King family rules?
Were they about conquering the world with potatoes?