A groan. "One of these days I'm going to spontaneously develop magical powers of my own, and then you'll be screwed." Which is to say, until then Balthier is always going to win the playful threat game.

Truth be told, if Balthier weren't somewhat hideously injured, Jack would be treating him to a lot more than wine and dinner. Entertainment, company, whatever pleasures his heart desires. It's something he's always felt compelled to do for his men, not just for his own sake (though it is for his own sake, too, an opportunity to lose himself in hedonism and live vicariously through their ability to appreciate it), but also because they deserved it, maybe even needed it in a quiet, desperate way after finding themselves inches from death, just to remember they're alive again. Balthier isn't one of his men, hierarchy has no place between them, but the sentiment is very much the same.

But, a steak dinner will just have to suffice. Food done, he sweeps everything onto plates and brings it around for both of them. "You know, I didn't choose this to be cruel, but conveniently..." It suits his teasing purposes. "Do you have a spell for cutting your meat one-handed, or shall I handle that more mundanely?"