There’s no plate for her. She knows this is intentional, another way to play up their hierarchy. Later, he might have her kneel by his chair, while he feeds her scraps from his plate, her lips and tongue against the tips of his fingers. Or maybe he’ll do as he’s threatened: set her plate on the floor beside him so she can eat while he watches, her hands still held behind her back. Or else they’ll have a late supper on trays in his ridiculously sumptuous bed, both leaning naked against the pillows, after he’s used her. Just thinking the phrase makes her shiver internally.