Peeta couldn't help but grow irritated at her flippant reaction to his mention of rations. Her world sounded idyllic, like she'd never had to deal with much that was difficult until coming here, and though part of him couldn't help but envy her for that, he almost felt it was a bit too naive.
And even though he knew he was free to use as much as he wanted here, part of him still felt as though he needed to pay the hotel staff for his use of their goods. It was a hard mental process to break.
"Do you really think a world in which children were forced to fight to the death would allow regular access to baking ingredients for personal use?" He tried to keep his tone even, not accusatory. "We weren't in the army, no, but we were not allowed to have much for ourselves even if we did have the bakery. And the sweet things we sold in there were more for the Peacekeepers, the sort of... police who patrolled our District and made sure no one was breaking the rules."