He looked at her, and for a moment the worry was clear; then a moment later his eyes narrowed, any concern covered the intensity of someone who was usually extremely powerful and did not like being toyed with. "They did something to me. That's how I explain it. They ... encouraged it."

He wasn't sure how, and sure as Hell didn't know where in his head they were hiding the memory, or whatever it was, but that's all it could've been. He'd gone in for some kind of medical test and come out knowing how to make a four-foot-tall tiered wedding cake. Therefore, the Workers had something to do with it.

The part that really concerned him was that knowing how to make the cake didn't actually bother him at all. It should have, but it didn't. That was what made the chills crawl down his spine. He scowled at the cake, torn between annoyance at a job not done quite as well as it should have been and worry over the fact he was even annoyed about it.