The kitchen carried the gentle scent of lavender soap, mingled with the lingering aromas of spices and roasted meat from dinner. The soft light of floating candles, suspended by subtle magic, bathed the room in a golden glow, casting dancing shadows across the polished stone walls. The solid wooden countertops, worn by years of use, gleamed in the reflections of the flames from a small fireplace tucked into one corner. The gentle clatter of dishes filled the air, keeping time with the movements of the remaining servants as they finished washing up in a copper sink.
Areyos and Yoko entered, carrying their plates. A servant wearing a white tunic embroidered with red stepped forward to take them, but Areyos raised a hand to stop him.
"There's no need to take our plates," he said, his tone calm but firm. "We'll wash them ourselves. You can leave the rest to us, too."
The servant raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"Are you sure, my lord?"
