THE GRAND BREAKFAST
I blinked twice, rubbed my eyes, and whispered a prayer to the gods: "Please don't let this be worse than the parade." While Coffi and Latte trailing behind me.
And then the doors to the royal garden breakfast hall opened, and my prayers were answered…sort of.
The hall was massive. Columns carved from white marble reflected the morning sunlight, fountains gurgled as if they were gossiping among themselves, and magical lanterns floated above the long tables, shimmering like fireflies with polite etiquette. The tables groaned under the weight of dishes so luxurious they made my jaw hurt just looking at them.
And then I saw it. At the center of all fancy bread, grand meats, sausage and teas.
Pizza. Hamburgers. At a royal breakfast. In the capital. At a feast that could rival Agro Territory's finest banquets.
I blinked. "What…what kind of breakfast is this?"
Coffi murmured about exaggerated heavy meals early in the morning.
Latte agreed.
