Story for the Day: Lucentian Breakfast
|Ladrei Maccadrin of Lucentia|
Finished mapping out plots for future books while I couldn't sleep. Here is what happened during breakfast.
The sun gained power over the morning and the commander and Den Asaan were invited to breakfast with his royal highness, the prince of Lucentia. As those of the noble classes in Lucentian believe it was expected and fashionable to be late, when the Den Asaan and commander were ushered into the private dining room, the prince was not yet arrived. He had been detained by business was the fashionable excuse they received and were encourage to sit and enjoy their breakfast while they waited for the prince to join them.
Soon, however, it was not the prince who attended them but Ladrei, who was asked to make the necessary apologies and tend to them in his highness’ stead.
“Lamir is currently occupied with whipping one of his footmen,” Ladrei said upon entering the room.
“Does he particularly merit so harsh a punishment at this time in the morning?” the commander warily asked.
Ladrei raised his brows and grinned. “She,” he corrected her, “And yes.”
“Did she do anything to warrant this particular reprimand?”
“Does she need to do something to be deserving of the prince’s hand?”
They exchanged a sly look, the commander shaking her head and Ladrei smiling to himself, his eyes aglow for the mischief he had seen ensuing in the prince’s chamber moments before his arrival.
Ladrei hopped to the head of the table. “Now I can have you and my smiling Haanta friend all to myself. And I can sit in his highness’ chair.” Ladrei pulled the prince’s chair out from the table and investigated the high velvet cushion with a happy countenance.
“Sitting is not so important as eating, Ladrei,” the commander simpered, glancing at her mate. “We are yet standing due to the lack of familiar items at the table.”
For a meal of royal consequence, the contents of this breakfast were rather sparse: a basket of small round breads, a silver abriz filled with thick and tarlike coffee and one small decanter of fresh milk. The more lavish accoutrements they were accustomed to see at the tables of Marridon and Livanon were absent, and though the commander was pleased to see moderation on the side of royalty, with regard to food the Den Asaan could not share her sentiments on the subject.
The giant sneered in aversion to see so little, not on the side of the prince’s parsimony towards his guests but in the lack of forethought that was put into considering Rautu’s insatiable hunger. Such a small display offended him, and when they sat to begin their meal, the giant was even more affronted by the items when given the chance to inspect them. He sniffed, he tasted, he revolted: coffee too thick for the milk to blend properly and bread too tough to be enjoyed. This was a suppsoed breafast of princes but it was not a breakfast of giants, and eventually he admitted, “Your preparation vessels are more tolerable than the food they present.”
Ladrei cackled at Rautu’s disgust. “This is Lucentia, my smiling friend,” he said with a flourish. “Everything here is that pleases is just for show.”
“Your women and your food included,” the commander observed. She took one of the round breads into her hand and instantly felt that it was inedible” the bread seemed soft to the eye but upon application felt like mortar. She banged it against the table to test its durability, and when it did not venture to break or even bend at the motion, the commander was resigned to eat the provisions in her room after they would be released from such gastronomic torment.
Ladrei laughed at her horror and laughed even more at the Den Asaan’s as he attempted to bite into the bread. “You’re meant to soak that in the coffee,” he snickered, putting his feet onto the table.
Rautu followed Ladrei’s suggestion but the bread only became trapped in the drinkable pitch and broke from the piece still in the Den Asaan’s hand. The giant grunted and had done. He resolved to drink the milk and return to the guest quarters to steal whatever remained of his mate’s provisions from her pack.
She attempted with all civility to have some of the coffee but even the milk could not salvage the substance from its unbearable bitterness. “I am certain,” she sighed, replacing her cup on the table, “that the more northward one travels, the more terrible the food is promised to be.” Her mate huffed in agreement. “I should not wonder at why Lamir chooses to enjoy a woman over this. Such a delectable creature cannot be more palatable than drinking tar and eating bricks for breakfast.”
Ladrei only smiled, too comfortable in the prince’s seat to care about the delights of breakfast or women at present, although he could not deny that having the latter for the former was all his intention for the morning.