The dining room was bathed in the warm, golden glow of the chandelier.
Ariana stood nervously by the table as the maids lifted the silver cloche covers.
Steam billowed out, carrying a rich, savory aroma that instantly filled the room. It wasn't the standard, heavy stew served in noble houses. It was a modern-style Beef Bourguignon—meat seared to perfection, simmered in red wine until it was tender enough to eat with a spoon, accompanied by glazed carrots and buttery mashed potatoes.
Lyriana leaned forward, sniffing the air delicately.
"This smells… dangerously good," she murmured.
She picked up her silver spoon, scooped up a piece of beef and some of the dark, glossy sauce, and placed it in her mouth.
The room went silent.
Ariana gripped her skirt, holding her breath. I watched my mother, knowing exactly what was coming.
Lyriana chewed once. Twice.
Her eyes widened.
She swallowed, then slowly lowered the spoon. She didn't speak for a full ten seconds.
