Chapter 34: Dinner With Zorathys (The Food Here is Absolutely Delicious)
Chapter 34: Dinner With Zorathys (The Food Here Is Absolutely Delicious)
"Yes, firefly," he sighed. "I am certain."
I moved like a puppet whose strings had been cut and reattached incorrectly, but I still managed to lower myself onto the chair beside him. Like the princess I was.
Very demure, very graceful, very dignified... and very terrified of the man—sorry, demon—who was staring at me with a smile.
I couldn’t stomach the way he looked at me, and so I just grabbed the glass set in front of me without bothering to check if it was water or not and drank from it. Thankfully, it was water.
Then suddenly, a bell tolled, and from the shadowed corridor came the kitchen staff.
Kethra led them like a general leading troops into battle, her flame-colored hair trailing steam and flour dust. Her leather apron was even more scorched than the one I remembered, charred in places where it had obviously lost a fight with something explosive. She looked proud. Proud and slightly singed. But mostly proud.
Behind her followed a parade of assistants: two coal-bellied hearth demons carrying a massive cauldron as though it weighed nothing, three slender, sharp-featured servers balancing trays like jeweled artifacts, and a pair of spice-kin—at least that was how Marrok introduced them to me before—whose hair literally fluttered with the scent of herbs every time they breathed.
The air changed instantly—a heavy bloom of warmth and spice rolling across the hall like someone had opened a furnace full of sweet steam. My stomach, which ten minutes earlier had been too nervous to exist properly, remembered hunger with a vengeance.
But one thing bothered me.
They were bringing the entire cauldron to the table.
Surely they weren’t planning to place it right there—?
I decided, for the sake of my life and my sanity, to stay quiet and wait before assuming anything.
Kethra stopped at the head of the table, bowed with a crackle of heat, and raised a ladle like a ceremonial scepter.
And so it began.
The dishes were placed elegantly on the table. First came plates of sleek, obsidian-dark bread cut into thick slices. The surface shimmered faintly, dusted with something that looked like crushed silver seeds...? I wasn’t entirely certain.
Next, bowls filled with a glossy ruby-red preserve, followed by trays of golden tubers glazed until they gleamed like polished amber.
Then came the cauldron.
Steam curled from the surface, carrying a familiar fragrance—warm, sweet, earthy—the exact scent of the broth I’d tasted during the castle tour. The hearth demons held it firmly.
Kethra ladled the shimmering liquid into an elegant bowl, then into another, until each place in front of us held a portion. The pear-and-star-anise aroma was nearly enough to knock me off my chair.
When she was done, the hearth demons carried the cauldron back to the kitchen. I didn’t understand why they even had to carry it over here in the first place, but at least they didn’t place it on the table.
One server placed a plate before me with slices of roasted chicken?
"Is this chicken?" I asked curiously.
"We don’t have any chicken here," Zorathys spoke up. "This is ember-fowl. It’s livestock."
Fowl is chicken from where I come from, but okay...
Its skin glowed faintly, lacquered with a glaze that smelled smoky and sweet.
Zorathys nodded toward my plate. "Go on," he murmured. "Taste it."
I swallowed hard and lifted my fork. He didn’t need to tell me twice because I wanted to taste it after all.
I cut into the ember-fowl, lifted a tiny piece to my lips, and—
"Oh!"
Oh, this was—
This was unfairly, criminally good.
The meat was tender, melting instantly on my tongue, smoky at first then rich with a peculiar sweetness. I let out an involuntary sigh. "Kethra," I breathed, "this is... this is incredible."
Her grin shone like a firecracker. "Slow-roasted ember-fowl," she declared proudly. "Glazed with night-honey and cracked moon-pepper. Does it please my lady?"
"It does more than please," I said honestly. "It’s— it’s delicious."
Encouraged, I moved to the bread. It was warm, faintly crisp on the outside, soft inside, tasting slightly sweet with a whisper of spice.
"What is this made from?" I asked.
"Stargrain and cloudflax," Kethra replied. "Mixed with ember-sugar. It rises fast—sometimes too fast. But we deal with it."
I had no idea what she just said, and all the names were strange too, but I nodded anyway.
I dipped the bread into the pear broth. The moment it touched my tongue, my eyes shot open wider.
Then wider.
Then wider.
This soup was even better than I remembered.
The pear was soft and mellow, the star anise gave it a soothing warmth, and something floral at the end made the flavors lift and bloom. It tasted like comfort. Like evening light. Like the kind of warmth that curled around your ribs and told you breathing was a good idea again.
Zorathys watched my expression with something disturbingly close to amusement.
I moved on to the next dish: a salad. Or at least something claiming to be a salad. The greens were thick, almost leathery-looking, rich dark emeralds. The tomatoes were... not tomatoes. They were almost black-red, gleaming like polished stones.
"What is this?" I asked cautiously.
"Bloodfruit and dusk-greens," Kethra explained. "Very nourishing. Good for recovering strength. The dressing is made from shadow-vinegar and a drop of molten citrus."
So it was a salad.
I took a bite and my mouth exploded.
Okay, maybe not literally. But the burst of flavor made me jolt. Sweet, tangy, rich, and savory all at once.
This was better than a salad.
"Kethra," I croaked, blinking, "this is incredible too."
I continued eating, moving between dishes, letting the flavors take over everything. I forgot where I was. Forgot who sat beside me. Forgot that I was scared a few minutes before. Instead, I focused on the food and how good it tasted.
It was better than anything I’d ever eaten.
Halfway through a piece of ember-fowl, I inhaled wrong and choked.
Zorathys moved instantly.
A cup appeared in his hand—he didn’t hand it to me; he simply placed it against my lips in the most casual, intimate way.
"Drink," he murmured.
I obeyed. Because of course I did.
Water soothed my throat, and I coughed one last time. "Thank you," I muttered.
"Take it easy, firefly," he said, voice low.
I nodded. Then I turned back to Kethra, warmth rising in my cheeks. "Everything is so good. Truly. I’ve never tasted anything like it."
Kethra puffed up with pride. "Thank you."
I continued eating, enthralled.
I didn’t even notice when the kitchen staff began to leave. Or when the last platter vanished into the corridor.
I was too busy devouring every bite on my plate, savoring each new flavor like a revelation.
It wasn’t until I lifted my head, cheeks warm, stomach pleasantly full, that I realized something strange.
Zorathys’s plate sat untouched.
His cup. Untouched.
Every dish before him. Untouched.
He hadn’t taken a single bite.
I blinked at him. Slowly.
"Why... aren’t you eating?"
He tilted his head, eyes gleaming like rubies dipped in candlelight.
"I am," he said.
I stared. Then stared harder. "No, you’re not."
A faint, wicked smile curved his lips.
"I’m already full," he said softly. "Watching you eat filled me."
What in the cliché universe was this, and why did I swoon a little?