Chapter 536: The Hobby of Probing Each Other’s Intentions
My gaze is fixed on the sea, where the distant Dragon Continent shimmers in the haze. If I lower my eyes just a bit, I can see the ships docked at the port.
The Wind Spirit occasionally plays with the waves, creating ripples on the surface. This vast inland sea is mostly surrounded by land, and it’s usually calm. They say the Storm Spirit wreaks havoc once or twice a year, but I’ve yet to witness it.
I’m seated at a terrace overlooking the sea, a spot that requires some connections to access. The first time I came here, I wasn’t allowed in.
The service is different here; as soon as I sit down, a glass filled with water is placed before me. The salt-free water from Naruadeid floating in the sea is a rare treat. The waiter opens the menu and asks about my wine preference. I’ll go with something that pairs well with shrimp.
Glasses for everyone are set on the table, and wine is poured. The ones seated with me are Soleil, Rinrin, the Butler, and myself. Through the window, I can see Faramia at a table inside.
The interior features a square table, but ours is round, offering plenty of space, adorned with flowers. A pristine white tablecloth is laid over it, with deep red glasses that have gold patterns and dolphin-like legs crafted from subtly tinted glass. Well, it looks more like an orca than a dolphin, honestly.
The wine is a slightly golden-hued white, but I can’t help but feel a bit disappointed by the thick, tinted glass.
“To good deals,” Soleil says, raising his glass lightly, and we all take a sip.
“I heard about the new trading company, but it doesn’t seem that way,” Rinrin remarks, perhaps aware that this table is usually off-limits.
“The employees of the trading company seem quite composed,” the Butler adds.
Is that so? Now that I think about it, they did seem quite experienced. Could they be from the same trading company Soleil used to belong to?
Another restaurant employee arrives, carrying a glass and a pitcher. At first, I think it’s water because it’s clear, but then I catch a whiff of alcohol.
“Arak,” Rinrin says.
“Hehe. I’m a newcomer, but I like to think I work quickly enough. I’ll strive to earn your trust,” Soleil replies with a bright smile.
“Arak is a drink favored by the Great Sage Haulon. Knowing he would be here, you had the employees run around to prepare before we even arrived,” the Butler explains Soleil’s actions, likely for my benefit.
So, Haulon enjoys this drink, huh? That must be common knowledge around here. I thought I had picked up quite a bit about this world, but it seems I still have much to learn, especially about those close to me.
I had thought Haulon preferred red wine, but this is something I’ve never heard of. I need to focus on exploring the local cuisine; there are still many dishes I don’t know.
Arak is a distilled drink made from high-sugar fruits like dates and grapes. It varies by region, including rice wines and palm wines made from fermented sap collected from cut palm flower spikes.
Yeah. When I think about how it’s made, knowledge from All Cooking surfaces. I’m not sure if it’s because I’ve “seen” Arak now or if it’s something written in a book somewhere, but knowledge I shouldn’t have known is coming to me.
“Let’s have a taste,” Rinrin says, pouring water into her glass of Arak. It seems you dilute it with water to suit your preference. After all, distilled spirits can be quite strong.
When I mimic her and add water, the clear liquid turns cloudy white. It’s a bit amusing.
“Faramia should join us. These two won’t mind,” I say, referring to the Changeling and the assassin.
Faramia is a Changeling, and her lack of expression and emotional movement often leads people to conclude she’s a Changeling just by looking at her. It’s strange; her face is more like that of a doll than a human, with even the smallest muscles remaining still.
Auro always has a smiling face, while Faramia’s default is a blank expression. It’s not odd when she’s eating alone or doing her maid duties, but still…
Among Changelings, those with black hair and eyes are thought to be influenced by the Black Spirit, making them quite unique. In the end, Faramia wasn’t a Changeling of the Black Spirit, and I have black hair too!
“…”
“…”
The two fall silent.
“You’re ruining the probing game…” the Butler says, sounding disappointed.
Ah, my bad. I’ll keep quiet.
Soleil wears a polished expression, while Haulon adopts a refined persona. Both seem to revel in this kind of subtle play. The Butler likely enjoys it too.
I’m not good at this, so I inadvertently stole their fun. My apologies.
“Ah, fine. I’ll just speak plainly,” Rinrin suddenly says, slumping her posture with a sigh.
Haulon has made his entrance, Haulon.
Soleil looks a bit taken aback but quickly regains his composure. You can shout if you want, you know? No, that wouldn’t be appropriate; we’re outside. From Haulon’s perspective, this is Soleil’s territory, but there are other rival trading companies around, so it’s not as free as on an island.
“The food has arrived, so I’ll keep quiet,” I say, eagerly anticipating the Long-arm Shrimp.