She nodded before walking over to the ladder. "Up in the loft is the most comfortable spot, I've found," she told him, climbing up. "The hay isn't a bad mattress."
She laughed a little, disappearing back into the loft. "They don't mean to. They just think it looks like straw."
She was moving around the hay to make it into a bedlike spot, gathering up the softer straw and setting it by the window.
She tilted her head but continued to lay out the hay. "King, then," she replied lightly. "Either way, you're peculiar."
"Because you want to help," she replied with a shrug, letting go of the last bit of hay and dusting off her pants. "Your father didn't want to help in any capacity. You're peculiar."
"You'd think," she said, laughing a little. "But you still want world domination, so maybe not quite so humbled."
