Riddle does not believe Cater's words for one minute, even with that smile on his face. What can he do but allow Cater to go? He's laying down. That is the least that Riddle can ask of him. He watches Cater go, waiting until he disappears up the stairs before getting to work on lunch.

It was... a process. One that required more effort than Riddle is willing to admit. He was capable of reading a recipe and following it, sure. That wasn't difficult. The difficult part was making sure he did everything exactly correct, without ruining even one step.

Cooking takes as long as one might expect, with a few hiccups. He's sure the cleanup is going to be hell, after one glance at the mess he's made of the kitchen. That could wait until after he'd gotten food in them both. Riddle places two teacups upon a tray, having prepared tea for the two of them. Then are their two bowls of food, as well as utensils. A small plate with some orange slices is placed between the bowls. Hopefully this would do just fine...

Otherwise he'd have to figure something else out.

With this all finally ready, he makes his way up the stairs, to Cater's room. Struggling holding the tray in one hand, he takes the time to knock, though does as Cater had the other night, opening the door before he so much as gets a response.