Having finished his morning fieldwork, his back drenched in sweat, Eugene received today's lunch portion from the cook: crispy fried vegetable cakes made from radish leaves and coarse wheat flour.
Recently, the white radishes in the castle's garden had been harvested. No one knew how the people of the Black Dragon Castle cared for or fertilized them, but every single radish was at least as big as two adult fingers, with the largest even the size of three fingers pressed together. Their white skin was plump and taut, much fatter than all the stunted radishes he had ever seen before.
Perhaps only a territory protected by the legendary Black Dragon, its soil steeped in dragon aura, could yield such a miraculous harvest.
The fresh and delicious radishes were naturally prioritized to be pickled as winter reserves or cooked into soup for the lords and Milady; it was not the turn of slaves like them to fully enjoy such things.
