"Fine, fine," Warren chuckled, and then reached into his pocket and pulled out... well... an envelope, holding it out to her. "It's no herd of cattle, this year. But I thought you might enjoy it."

It was a certificate saying that private baking lessons being hosted by a baker in Sidra had been paid for. Because Warren was actually a terrible person.

... Who was well aware that he'd probably end up having to dispose of everything Karla made.