Valeri Leufroy looked at the dishes that had just been set on his table the way he'd have eyed a serpent he hadn't yet determined was venomous. It wasn't the food's fault, but it was completely different from anything that would have been served at a feast Bors Lothian had ordered to start the day with.
Gone were the thick, fatty sausages packed with an almost overwhelming amount of expensive spices. In their place, the new Master of Kitchens had shaved cured, aged pork thinly enough to see light through the slices before wrapping them around delicate slices of apple and an almost nutty, hard cheese. That very same ham had also been neatly and carefully folded into small, flower-shaped cups whose petals held small bits of dried cherries and a crumbly cheese that smelled like it was made from sheep's milk.
