[Belth doesn't trust him one bit.

But he is desperate, and that means calling to mind all the formalities he's learned as a piece of dirt in Silvermoon. He bows lowly, though he doesn't kneel, and holds out the basket.]

Pastries. It's an exotic recipe I learned on the last world I was trapped on. You seem to have a taste for fine things, so I hope you like them... [Fuck, how does one address a fucking dragon? This wasn't in his books.] ... my lord.