“Two people? We have a table available over here.” An enthusiastic waiter stepped forward to greet Flora and Ilya as they entered, gesturing toward a small table by the window that had just been cleared.
His gaze quickly swept over Ilya and Flora with a businessman’s typical appraisal, but he didn’t linger.
Flora didn’t say much, simply whispering to Ilya, “Mother, let’s sit over there.”
The two of them walked toward the small table by the window, which was covered with a clean checkered tablecloth.
After they sat down, a young waitress immediately brought two handwritten menus and two glasses of warm water.
The menus were pinned to old wooden boards, and though the handwriting was somewhat slanted, it was clear.
Flora scanned the familiar dish names almost greedily: signature beef stew, creamy mushroom soup, hunter’s stew, and roasted potatoes with sour cream… Prices had risen a bit from her memory, but they were still affordable and not very expensive.
“Mother, see what you’d like to eat.” She pushed the menu toward Ilya, though she was already calculating in her own head.
Ilya took the menu and browsed through it with a calm gaze. Her posture was elegant, quiet, and composed, appearing slightly out of place in the somewhat noisy environment.
“You order. Since you are familiar with this place, everything should be quite good.”
Flora felt a flicker of warmth in her heart, followed by a hint of excitement.
She summoned the waitress and pointed at the menu. “Two orders each of the signature beef stew and the creamy mushroom soup with toasted bread cubes.”
These two dishes were must-haves for her to revisit, so Flora ordered them immediately.
Then, she ordered the herb roasted chicken, which her father used to treat them to as a rare luxury when she was a child, and the black pepper venison steak, which she had always found too expensive to try before.
Suddenly, Flora pointed to a line of slightly newer handwriting at the bottom of the menu. “Is this ‘autumn wild mushroom rice’ a new dish?”
The waitress nodded with a smile. “Yes, miss. We just added it this autumn. It uses several of the freshest types of mushrooms from the nearby mountains, and many people love it.”
“Then I’ll take one of those as well.” Flora closed the menu, a sense of near-extravagant satisfaction enveloping her.
Before, she had to be frugal, sharing the few delicacies they could afford with her father and younger sister, but now…
Ilya remained silent while Flora ordered, only lifting her glass to take a small sip of water.
It wasn’t until the waitress finished her notes and left that she looked at Flora, a faint curve appearing at the corner of her lips. “You ordered so much. Can you finish it all?”
Flora’s face turned red, and she whispered, “I… I just wanted to try everything. Before…”
“Mhm,” Ilya hummed. Her voice held no blame, but rather a hint of indulgence. “Order whatever you like; you don’t have to worry about those things anymore. Just don’t let it go to waste.”
Ilya paused for a moment before adding, “If you can’t finish it, we can take it back with us.”
Hearing this, Flora let out a soft sigh. An indescribable emotion slowly surfaced in her heart, but it quickly dissipated.
The wait for the food wasn’t long. Sometimes Flora would watch the pedestrians passing by outside the window, and sometimes she would whisper stories about the shop’s past to Ilya.
For the most part, Ilya just listened, occasionally asking a question or two.
The first dish to arrive was the creamy mushroom soup.
The rich, milky white soup was served in a heavy ceramic bowl, its surface sprinkled with finely chopped parsley and golden-brown, crispy toasted bread cubes.
The steam carried a fragrant aroma of mushrooms.
Flora scooped up a spoonful with a sense of reverence, blew on it, and brought it to her mouth.
In that instant, the floodgates of memory swung wide.
The warm, smooth, and full-bodied savory flavor of the mushrooms dissolved on the tip of her tongue, blending with the richness of the cream. The familiarity of it made her eyes sting slightly.
The taste of the soup had hardly changed—it was still just as reassuring—but the feeling was entirely different.
Once, this had been a rare reward, accompanied by the joy of sharing and a hint of guilt over the expense. Now, she could calmly and quietly savor this pure deliciousness, and… Ilya was sitting beside her.
She stole a glance at Ilya. Ilya was meticulously stirring the thick soup with her spoon before taking a spoonful.
Her posture remained impeccable, though her pace was slightly slower than usual. She brought the spoon to her mouth and savored it for a moment.
“How is it, Mother?” Flora couldn’t help but ask.
“A very warm taste,” Ilya gave a candid evaluation that didn’t sound dismissive. “The texture is… quite unique.”
She didn’t say more, but Flora saw her quickly scoop up a second spoonful, her movements much more natural now.
Next was the signature beef stew. The tender beef was soaked in a dark brown, rich sauce, accompanied by soft-stewed carrots and onions.
Flora couldn’t wait to fork a piece into her mouth. That familiar, complex aroma with a hint of sweetness instantly conquered her taste buds.
Flora narrowed her eyes with satisfaction, nearly letting out a sigh of contentment.
Ilya looked at the bowl of beef, which appeared a bit rustic, and also forked a piece to chew slowly. Her brow twitched almost imperceptibly as if she were analyzing the complex layers of flavor.
“A bit… unrefined, but the flavor is solid.” A very simple and sincere evaluation.
Then, she did something that almost made Flora laugh.
Following the example of the guests at the next table, she used her fork to pick up a small piece of bread and attempted to dip it into the sauce on her plate.
However, perhaps she underestimated the force required, or maybe the bread itself was a bit too crispy, but as she went to dip it, the small piece of bread fell into the sauce with a *plop*.
A tiny bit of sauce splashed up, landing exactly on the edge of her pristine cuff.
Ilya’s movements froze instantly.
She stared at the tiny dark stain on her cuff, then at the sunken bread in her plate.
Her face remained expressionless, but Flora keenly caught a flash of almost imperceptible surprise in those usually deep, calm violet eyes, followed by a hint of emotion bordering on chagrin, hidden beneath her etiquette and composure.
It wasn’t like how Ilya looked when she was angry. Flora had never seen her like this.
Her current behavior was more like an instinctive, subconscious reaction to an accidental mistake in unfamiliar territory. It was brief, but very real.
‘That makes sense. As the Queen of a race, she probably rarely encounters so-called “unfamiliar territory.”‘
Flora immediately lowered her head, struggling to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, though her heart inexplicably beat a little faster.
She had never seen her mother show such an expression, even if only for a fleeting moment. It suddenly made her feel that… her mother wasn’t out of reach; she was like a normal person, too.
She gave a light cough, picked up her own bread, and gave a demonstration.
“Mother, like this… just press down a little firmer, or dip it a bit more shallowly.” She did it naturally, her voice kept very low as if only the two of them could hear.