Carl XVI Gustaf starts rubbing against his shins the second he steps inside the kitchen, so Lukas glances at the magnetic board on the fridge. Katten åt, it reads. The cat ate. He crosses his arms. “I know she has already fed you.” Meow. “She told me. She wrote it right there, on the board.” Meow. “I’m not her. I will not be manipulated.” Meoooow. He sighs and opens the treats cupboards.
