Nulfhild confronts you

“Fucking hell...”

The sound of Nulfhild is too close for comfort. He's standing in the doorway. Just a metres away. With a look of disappointment on his face, like he'd expected better.

He steps closer, shaking his head slowly, flour still dusting his forearms.

“I thought you'd stop after a while. But, well, the jokes on ol' Nulfhild, I guess.”

He looks genuinely let down as he stops in front of you. He must've seen you do this for quite a while. And just chosen to confront you about it now. Maybe he took pity the first few times, and just couldn't... any more.

“I won't judge you. We've all got our reasons, good or bad. But I can't have you work here anymore. I need money too, and the strain of you doing this... is too much.” His voice drops low, as does his head. “Please, don't argue back, lass. Just hang up your apron and go.”