Carlisle snorts audibly behind the scarf covering his face, rolling his eyes at Kabal's smug attitude. He thought the man couldn't be more insufferable; he was clearly wrong.

"And tell me again how it is you know so much about these various types of forks?" Carlisle asks, still clearly doubting there is any real difference between them other than size. "I cannot imagine you sitting at the table of high society, nor can I see anyone else but a monarch making such a fuss over utensils."