Date? - 5

Roosevelt approached with a large silver platter, carefully balancing it as he set it down in front of them. The aroma wafting from the dish was intoxicating, a symphony of spices that immediately drew their attention. He removed the lid, revealing a steaming bowl of perfectly cooked chicken karahi. Its vibrant red gravy shimmered in the soft candlelight, garnished with fresh cilantro and julienned ginger. The sight alone was enough to make Reich's mouth water.

As Reich stared at the dish, a wave of nostalgia swept over his. Memories of Earth flooded his mind—his mother bustling around the kitchen, her hands skillfully adding spices to the bubbling pot. He remembered how she would call him to dinner, the spicy chicken karahi always the centerpiece of their meals. Back then, he would devour it greedily, leaving nothing behind—not even the bones, which he would gnaw clean with delight.

The chicken wasn't served alone. Beside it lay a basket of naan, slightly charred and glistening with butter, its warm, doughy scent mingling with the spices. Alongside was a small bowl of mashed potatoes, their creamy texture meant to temper the heat of the dish, and a colorful salad of crisp vegetables, vibrant greens, and tangy dressing. The presentation was humble yet inviting, a feast that seemed to bridge two worlds.

Reich couldn't wait any longer. The pull of nostalgia was too strong. Grabbing a piece of naan, he tore it into smaller chunks and scooped up some chicken, the rich gravy clinging to the bread. As he took his first bite, his eyes closed involuntarily. The explosion of flavors—fiery chili, tangy tomatoes, and the deep, savory undertones of the chicken—took him back to those warm family dinners. Every taste bud lit up, and for a moment, he was a child again, sitting at his mother's table.

"Your cooking gets better every time, chef," Reich said between bites, his voice thick with genuine appreciation.

Roosevelt stepped back and bowed deeply. "I am honored, my lord," he said, his voice steady but clearly pleased by the compliment.

Reich wasn't the only one captivated by the dish. Across the table, Sulvia had hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to expect. But as soon as she took her first bite, her expression transformed. Her eyes widened with surprise, and a delighted spark flickered in them. She chewed slowly, savoring every nuance of the dish.

"This… this is incredible," she said softly, almost to herself. "I've never tasted anything like it."

Reich looked up from his plate, a grin playing on his lips as he watched her reaction. "How does it taste, Sulvia?" he asked, his tone teasing as he tore into another piece of chicken, already working his way toward the bones.

Sulvia didn't hesitate. "It's delicious," she said, her voice filled with wonder. "Where did you learn to make something like this? I've never even heard of such a dish before."

Roosevelt, standing nearby, allowed himself a proud smile. "Thank you, young lady, for your kind words. This is a traditional dish from my hometown," he explained. "My uncle was the one who taught me to make it."

Both Reich and Sulvia were so enchanted by the flavors that they didn't stop until every last morsel was gone. They scraped the bowl clean, wiping up the remaining gravy with the naan until not even a trace of the vibrant sauce remained.

"Shall I serve dessert now, my lord?" Roosevelt asked, bowing once more, his tone formal but his expression betraying his satisfaction.

"Please do," Reich said, leaning back in his chair, clearly content but eager for what was next.

Roosevelt returned to the kitchen and soon reappeared, carrying two glasses filled with a vibrant, colorful drink. The liquid seemed to shimmer under the light, layers of creamy textures blending into bright hues. He placed the glasses gently in front of them.

"Please, enjoy," he said with a small bow, stepping back to let them savor his creation.

Reich lifted the glass and took a cautious sip, his eyes lighting up as the cool, sweet liquid danced across his tongue. It was creamy yet refreshing, with hints of fruit and a subtle floral undertone that balanced perfectly.

Sulvia followed suit, her reaction immediate. "This is… exquisite," she said, her voice almost reverent.

"You've outdone yourself again, Roosevelt," Reich said, setting his empty glass down with a satisfied sigh.

"I live to serve, my lord," Roosevelt replied, bowing once more, though the pride in his work was evident in the slight upward curl of his lips.

"Sit here. I'll go pay," Reich said, rising from his seat as Sulvia leaned back, content from the meal.

Reich approached the cash counter, where Roosevelt was standing with a ledger in hand, counting and sorting the cash.

"Anything odd?" Reich asked casually, his voice low yet firm.

Roosevelt paused for a moment, glancing around the room to ensure no one was within earshot. "That may be, my lord," he replied, his tone cautious.

Reich narrowed his eyes. "Is that so?"

"Very much so, my lord," Roosevelt said as he handed Reich his change.

Reich leaned slightly closer, his expression hardening. "Well, what about Deroth?" he asked, referring to a key region in his territory.

Roosevelt's gaze darkened as he spoke. "If things continue as they are, a revolt is inevitable. To the people, you appear weak, my lord. And looking weak is far worse than actually being weak."

Reich's jaw clenched. "Can't you do anything to mitigate it?"

Roosevelt shook his head. "I'm afraid not, my lord. This isn't a matter that one man can resolve. It requires a shift in policies and an effort to address the grievances of the people. It's no longer just whispers in the streets—nearly everyone in the territory feels the same."

He continued, his voice grim. "You can break one stick, but not a hundred. The common folks are burdened under heavy taxes and lack basic relief. If these issues aren't addressed soon, they won't just grumble; they'll march. And when they do, they'll come for your head, my lord. What's worse, shadow groups are already forming, feeding off the discontent."

Reich nodded slowly, absorbing the information. "I see... Anything else of concern?"

Roosevelt hesitated before speaking, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Marquess Robart is growing ambitious. He's been quietly rallying other lords, sowing seeds of rebellion. He dreams of taking your throne."

Reich's eyes sharpened. "Is it a threat yet?"

"Not at the moment," Roosevelt admitted. "But combined with the unrest among the common folk, it could escalate quickly. My advice, my lord, is to focus on the people first. Ease their burdens, reduce taxes, and show them you're still their protector. If you win their hearts, Robart's schemes will crumble before they gain traction."

Reich nodded once more, his expression unreadable. "Is that all?"

"That's all for now, my lord," Roosevelt said, stepping back slightly.

Reich placed a hand on Roosevelt's shoulder, his voice softer now. "Thank you for your service, chef. Keep up the good work."

As Reich turned to leave, Roosevelt watched him with a faint smile. The lord has changed, he thought to himself. Perhaps for the better.

Reich returned to Sulvia, gesturing toward the door. "Let's go."

The two stepped out of the restaurant and into the bustling streets, where the market was alive with activity. They wandered deeper into the market, eventually arriving at the cloth district.

This part of the market was a tapestry of color and texture, with thousands of fabrics displayed in every imaginable hue. Merchants called out to passersby, showcasing silks that shimmered like water, rougher wools meant for colder climates, and intricate embroidery that told stories of craftsmanship. The variety was staggering—something for everyone, whether they were royalty seeking luxury or peasants searching for practicality.

Sulvia's eyes lit up as they passed one stall after another. She was entranced by the endless rows of dresses, each unique in its design. The intricate patterns, vibrant colors, and delicate embellishments seemed to captivate her completely. Her gaze darted from one shop to another, unable to settle on just one thing.

Reich noticed her excitement and slowed his pace, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Do you want to go shopping?" he asked, his tone light but teasing.

Sulvia hesitated, clearly tempted but unsure if she should say yes.

******

Thanks for reading. I hope you don't think I have been stretching chaps and if you think that I'm streching than please comment.

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