"Very sure," Lancelot says, "I have been timing them."

He lofts an eyebrow at Faolan in a way that says perhaps he might know what the man really means, but for the moment... he is leaving it. Stirring the water he checks the time again, waits until the toast pops then begins arranging things quickly on the plate.

"This might be messy if you eat it there, do you think you can sit up? Or, I can bring it over there if you think you can keep from getting it everywhere."