Laniakea watched the two figures enter his office. Before the tavern owner could shut the door, Laniakea blocked it with his hand. "Excuse me," he said, "you still haven't told me what you want to order."
The woman's expression shifted into one of slight shock. The guard, however, bristled with rage. "You! You dare?" he yelled, his voice agitated. "How could a commoner like you meddle in this? You're a chef—nothing more. Stay out of this! You should be glad my current objective is only to guard the Lady."
The woman let out a soft chuckle. "I'll order after I'm finished here. Don't worry, we won't stay only for a conversation."
Laniakea let go of the door. The guard pulled it shut firmly, his face tight with annoyance.
"I'd like to apologize for my employee's behavior," the owner said quickly. "He hasn't had a proper education."
"It's fine," the woman replied. "And if you paid attention, you'd realize he kept his manners quite well—better than most commoners even some nobles, in fact. Well then, shall we begin the business we gathered for?"
Laniakea backed away from the door to avoid further trouble. Behind him, he heard the owner shouting, "Make sure the sign outside says we're closed! We won't be serving anyone else today!"
Laniakea walked to the entrance and flipped the sign. Then, he waited in the lobby for them to finish. Eventually, the owner spotted him and frowned. "Hey, what are you still doing here? I told you to close up an hour ago."
"I still haven't served the visitors," Laniakea answered. "I can't leave without doing that, can I?"
"Ha ha this punk..." the owner muttered, letting out a heavy sigh. He turned to the woman. "Go ahead, Miss. What would you like to order? It may be hard to believe, but this little guy here is the sous-chef of our kitchen."
"How about you recommend something?" the woman suggested, looking at Laniakea.
Laniakea nodded. He tied on his apron and entered the kitchen, falling into a deep state of focus. The hearth-fire roared, casting flickering shadows against the soot-stained stones. Amidst the rhythmic thwack of a heavy iron blade against oak and the steady crackle of seasoned birch, he moved with practiced grace. He tossed hand-ground turmeric and bruised saffron into a heavy cauldron; the spices bloomed in rendered beef fat, swirling through the bubbling broth.
As the day began to fade, Laniakea stirred a wooden paddle through the thickening brew. The beef had softened into tender velvet, surrendering to a sea of diced golden beets and parsnips that shimmered under a layer of amber oil. He lifted a ladle, watching the ragout catch the dying light of the window. It was no longer a mere stew; it was a captured horizon. The liquid held a deep, fiery orange marbled with streaks of buttery gold. It glowed with a radiant heat—a masterpiece of salt and fire that perfectly resembled a summer sunset.
"My Lady, here is the dish," Laniakea said, presenting the bowl with a fierce, confident gaze. "When you asked for a recommendation, I immediately thought of this: 'Golden Beef & Root Vegetable Ragout.' I made it because its color resembles your hair, which transitions from snow-white to deep orange at the tips. I hope it matches your taste."
The woman looked at him. "You've probably realized I am a noble, so there's no point in hiding it. I have tasted dishes from the best chefs in the world. Let's see if yours can match them."
She took a spoonful. The moment it touched her tongue, she was overwhelmed. She found a velvety, honeyed sweetness from the golden roots, perfectly balanced by the floral heat of saffron. It was a savory revelation of tender beef and aromatic earth—different from anything she had ever known. It felt more sincere, as if she could taste the chef's very emotions.
"How did you make this? It's incredible," she asked.
"There is no secret or trick," Laniakea answered. "You simply felt my sincerity. Other chefs cook for money or fame; I did it because you ordered it, and it was my job as a chef to bring you a true meal."
The woman was silent, unsure of how to react. She had never been treated with such genuine emotion and respect, and for the first time, she didn't know what to do.