Dinner was as lavish as always four main dishes, two soups, six small plates filling the entire table, the aromas rising and blending with the warm glow of golden light.
I wasn't one for strict etiquette, so I told Karen to sit and eat with me. According to the rules of the Anderson Estate, a maid is absolutely forbidden from sharing a table with the master, but Karen to me was no different from a younger sister. As for Maya, she could only shake her head helplessly at my hopelessly undisciplined habits.
Fortunately, Karen knew her boundaries. She only pulled up a small chair and sat right beside me, as if to "technically not break the rules."
I wasn't used to having people stand by to serve me, so I told Maya and the other maids to go eat outside. Maya didn't dare go far, but she retreated to the hallway, giving us space to relax.
I finished eating first. I casually lifted the teacup inside was only the pale gold color of herbal tea. My heart sank a little.
Karen glanced at me and, even mid-chew, burst out laughing.
"What's wrong? Craving alcohol again?"
She hit the mark so painfully that all I could do was give a stiff smile.
"Of course not… It's just the tea looked so gold I thought it was Chardonnay. I even praised you in my head, thinking you were being generous today."
Good meat without wine really was a tragedy.
Karen snorted."Don't even dream. Remember what Dr. Richart said your body can't handle alcohol. You need proper care."
With that, she pulled out a small bottle from the pouch at her hip, opened it, poured out a black capsule, and held it out to me.
"Here. Take it."
I had no choice but to take the capsule, swallow it with a sip of tea, then get up to walk a few rounds to digest.
Outside, the snow was melting, the cold air stinging my nose.
After a few laps, I went back inside, the night was far too cold for a long stroll.
Joseph didn't come home.I slept well again.
To be honest, I usually tossed and turned in my sleep, but when someone was beside me, I had to keep still, afraid my flailing arms and legs would bother him. With him gone tonight… I could finally breathe freely the whole night.
As for Joseph, he probably had a good sleep too. The day before, he'd only slept two hours, hardly enough.
While on duty at the Cabinet Office, he simply stayed there. With no one beside him, he slept easier.
But by the second day, he couldn't keep doing that. Newly married, how could he sleep at the office every night? No matter what, tonight he had to return to his wife's room.
King Lycan knew he'd been called away by an Executive Order on the wedding night, so these days he allowed Joseph to go home whenever he wished. So that evening, around five o'clock, Joseph returned.
As tradition dictated, he went to greet Lady Lauren first before coming to my room.
…
Stepping into the hallway, he immediately saw the two of us waiting under the lights, we had clearly been waiting a while.
When Joseph appeared, I quietly exhaled in relief. Karen, of course, was starving she was still growing and practiced martial arts; she got hungry extremely fast. I wanted her to eat on time, but Maya insisted the young master would return tonight, so we waited.
Waited and waited, until he finally appeared through the thin veil of mist.
We went to greet him and invited him to the table. After washing his hands, he sat.
Maya immediately ordered the dishes to be brought out.
That night's dinner was set on the long table in the grand main hall bright, spacious, aristocratic to the point that anyone seeing it for the first time would instinctively tense up.
Joseph and I sat opposite each other, one at each end of the table.
Under the warm candlelight, each dish was served like movements of a culinary symphony. First came the Provençal red-wine braised lamb, melting under the fork, rich with Mediterranean herbs and deep wine. Next, the Western ginseng chicken soup, steam rising gently, its aroma warm and soothing like a soft mist settling on the tongue. Garlic-butter clams arrived on a white porcelain plate, shells glistening with butter, the scent rich enough to make anyone swallow hard.
Then came the Four-Hearts soup, a nourishing specialty pale golden, silky, savory yet refined. After that, veal stew with white cabbage, steam rising with the scent of tender meat and natural vegetable sweetness, warm like a winter home-cooked meal. Seasonal stir-fried vegetables followed bright, crisp, lightly seasoned, bringing the whole feast to life.
A basket of nut-butter bread sat in the center, crust golden and crisp, the soft crumb rich with butter and toasted nuts. At one corner was a European-style steamed momordica glutinous rice, a vibrant red cranberry sweet rice, chewy, delicately tart, a breath of East-West harmony. Finally, roasted honey dates were served as the sweet final note glossy with syrup, fragrant with caramel, melting on the tongue.
Over a dozen dishes, so many I felt dizzy just looking at them.
I thought my daily meals were luxurious, but eating with the young master today showed me the true meaning of "unmatched opulence."
I stole a glance at Joseph, his expression calm, as if utterly accustomed to this extravagance.
He truly was born into luxury.
When the final dish arrived, the fragrant, golden roasted French goose I realized it was the very dish Karen and I had once craved so badly we swallowed our own saliva.
I once joked that if I could eat roasted goose with a jug of strong wine, I'd die happy on the spot.
And now, that aroma was right before me.
Once the dishes were set, Joseph began eating. Maya stood beside him, occasionally serving him directly.
There were so many dishes I had no idea how the two of them could finish them.
I only took a little and told them to bring the rest out to the tea room for Karen.
But the roasted goose in front of Joseph, he didn't touch it even after a long while.
What a waste.
Left too long, the crispy skin would soften, the meat would toughen, the flavor would drop by half, any wanderer like me knew that well. So I reached out and pulled the dish toward myself. I glanced at Joseph, he lowered his eyes, pretending not to notice. So I dug in shamelessly.
The first bite, soft, fragrant, crisp, rich but not greasy. If only there were a sip of Cabernet Sauvignon… it would've been perfect.
With Karen gone, I lifted my teacup toward Joseph, suddenly in the mood to tease:
"Tea instead of wine, let me toast you, my lord."
He glanced at me, lifted his cup, and took a sip.
But I didn't drink yet. I smiled softly, tilted my head, my voice like silk:
"Joseph… a feast this lavish without wine is such a pity. I don't know what you usually prefer, but I… I can drink anything with you until we're both satisfied."
He looked up at me, his eyes calm but deep, staring so long I began to feel uneasy.
"Did I… say something wrong?" I whispered.
Joseph set his cup down, his voice slow and cold:
"Vecna. Unless by order of the King, I do not drink alcohol."
I froze.
"Alcohol harms the body. As a woman, you should avoid it even more. Don't drink anymore."
The sky might as well have collapsed.
My smile almost fell off.
"…Understood."
I suddenly lost all appetite.
Joseph saw every shift in my expression clearly. He didn't soften, but something in his gaze wavered.
Principles were principles, he wouldn't bend. But he still said:
"If you want anything else, just say it. If it can be granted, I will grant it."
I looked straight at him and softly replied:
"Wine."
Joseph: complete silence.
As if I hadn't said anything at all.
After the meal, he stood and went to his study. Reports from the government office filled the desk, and as usual, the stewards carried in stacks of documents waiting for his approval.
As for me… I could only laugh to myself:
He'll probably never manage to drink even a single cup with me for the rest of his life.