"Mihrjan, I'm sick of the same dreary food day after day. Godwin maintains that gentlemen rovers should fare roughly, to toughen their bodies. But I'm not a gentleman."
"Assuredly thou art not," said the invisible djinni, respect and male admiration nicely blended in his great voice.
"Then spread me a real feast! I want couscous, with almond stuffing, and wild rice, and some lemon juice, and certainly some white bread."
"Thy will is sweet, Mistress."
"Then oranges, and asida, and sugar. And about three gallons of sherbet. And Mihrjan, do you remember the time you brought me that confection out of a far time? The one you called silk chocolate?"
"Milk chocolate, O Daughter of All Delights."
"Bring me some of that, too. Put the meal on a damask cloth, with blue gauze to wipe the mouth, and the vessels must all be of purest crystal with gold rims."
"To hear is to obey, Little Queen of My Tribe."
"Be sure there's plenty for all of us, with a bowl of mice for Godwin's falcon Yellow-eyes, and remember that my lord and master eats like two-thirds of a regiment."
"Give me but four minutes, Mistress, and you shall see it spread beneath the trees of this oasis, beside the clear spring that bubbles through the sand."