Chance Eaupéril made his way through the crowd to the center of the street. Chance wore a long cape dyed in equal parts crimson red, royal purple, and pretentious. The garment was gilded with cloth-of-gold embellishments along the edges. Underneath he wore a lighter shade of lavender jacket and pants, with the cape wrapped around his upper torso and then draped casually over one arm. His feet were encased in red felt boots, each of which was tied up at his shins with three crimson cords. His left hand was covered by a thick leather glove. His falcon was perched on the tip of his fingers.
Luke, dressed in a lime green suit jacket with burgundy fringe along the top and bottom of each arm, followed behind him. Tasha had pulled his hair into a slick back pompadour exposing most of his face. She had also dusted his cheeks with a pink blush and outlined his eyes with a deeper bronze.
As Chance made his way through the crowd the bird on his hand aimed its golden eyes at the most poorly dressed people around them and gave a disapproving dip of its beak. Chance’s elbow, pointed out as it held his cape, tapped several people in the back of the head as he passed by their tables.
Councilor A raised his head as Chance approached, but did not get up. “Mr Eaupéril, we’ve been waiting for you. I regret that I was unable to witness your full competition. I’m told it was a unique performance.”
“Everything I do is unique.” Chance stood at the edge of the table at the center of the street. He waved to the crowd.
Some waved back.
“I’ve been looking forward to this all evening. You all are so lucky that I’m here.” Chance smiled.
“Right.” Councilor A shifted in his seat.
Lady House casually scratched behind one ear. Her earrings this evening were brass snakes coiled around a jade pineapple.
Lux approached the table and gave a formal nod with his hands in front of his chest. “Welcome to the Galaxy Lip Mr Eaupéril. I am Lux. This is my restaurant.”
“I am pleased to be gracing your establishment with my presence.” Chance’s eyes swept the table. “How wonderful it is to be surrounded by the elite. The cream of the crop. Birds of a feather you might say.”
*Caw*
“That’s right Beck. Let’s take a seat.”
Chance pulled out the seat in front of him and threw his cape over the back. Luke moved to grab one of the two available chairs.
The falcon swooped down and landed on the chair right before Luke could grab it. It pinched the back with its claws. The bird turned and spread its wings and hissed at Luke.
“Don’t worry boy. Beck’s only stretching his wings.” Chance stuffed a napkin in his collar.
The falcon snapped its beak. Luke flinched back.
“For your bird sir.” The Bandaged Cleric arrived at the table with a subtle gesture. She held out a long hickory pole with a padded brace on top. The pole was effortlessly mounted to the side of the table next to Chance’s chair.
“You even have a table-perch.” Chance put a hand on his chest. “Incredible. I see that your reputation is not undeserved. You truly do have the finest restaurant in the four Kingdoms.”
Chance pulled off his leather glove and tossed it over his shoulder. It hit Rosy in the face and she struggled to catch it before it fell on the ground.
The falcon stared once more at Luke, then hopped up onto the portable perch.
The Bandaged Cleric took up position next to the table. “Can I get you a drink sir? Or maybe take your cape?” She took a wide step to avoid Chance’s cape.
“It’s a half-and-again cape. It’s meant to lay on the floor when not in use.” Chance smirked.
#
Luke slid into his chair and let out a quiet *sigh*.
“And what’s your name?” Councilor A briefly glanced at Luke.
“Excuse me?” Luke turned to look at his neighbor, Councilor A, and paused.
Councilor A pointed at him. “You’re Mr Eaupéril’s son, is that right?”
“Yes? You… ready don’t know.” Luke’s eyes flicked back and forth.
“Mr Eaupéril didn’t mention it.”
“I guess you can call me… Belt?”
“That makes sense. Your father is a fashion designer.” Councilor A turned back to the table and took a sip from his water.
“Yeah…” Luke tilted his head to the side. He stared at the older man in absolute confusion. “You really don’t recognize me?”
“Young man, I am a member of the White Council. I meet a phenomenal amount of people every day. If you don’t understand the level of responsibility that entails, I am not obligated to explain it to you.”
Luke stared blankly at the tablecloth in front of him. “No sir.”
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#
“Tasha.”
Tasha looked up from where she was stacking paper tickets on the kitchen window. Cophin was standing in front of his cutting board with his arms crossed.
“Yes Chef?”
“I couldn’t help but notice that we happen ta be getting a lot of side salad orders this evening.”
“Is that right Chef?” Tasha pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Despite our increase in customers, none of them are ordering entrées. Why is that?”
Tasha tapped the tips of her fingers together. “We didn’t want you to get distracted this evening.”
“We?”
“It was Plinth’s idea. It would have been awkward to have two main menus so we, he, decided to cut down tonight’s menu to only appetizers. He said it would help prevent you from getting upset that the Galaxy lip is getting all the big orders.”
“Is that right?” Cophin twirled a knife in his hand.
“It's going great so far. Nobody would even believe that we serve anything other than salads.”
“We are a full service restaurant. We were supposed ta be splitting the tables.” Cophin said to himself.
“I’ve got tables to clear. Gotta go.” Tasha shoved her tickets on the counter and dashed away.
#
“Listen to me Ted, I know that you think being a Combak is exciting. But it’s not a job for a real man. They’re barely better than Adventurers.”
“Don’t a lot of people from Star Town become Adventurers sir?”
“That’s not the point. It’s not respectable. You need a good reliable government job Ted. Today you’re my mayoral aide. One day, in the future, when Jack is Mayor you will be his mayoral aide. Doesn't that sound better than being a wandering warrior-chef? Living a life of danger… and excitement.” The Mayor looked into the middle distance.
“Uhhh…” Ted’s jaw hung open.
“Do I hear the sound of a lazy tongue out here?” Lux shuffled around the corner. “There you are Ted. And Mayor Letterman. It feels so strange saying that. Mayor, MaYoR. Been a while since Kaseihgaeu had one of those.”
“Yes. The town seems to have prospered without one. Makes one wonder if a Mayor is even necessary.” Champ traced a knot of wood on the bar counter with his finger.
Lux continued. “Tell me Mr Mayor are you as enraptured with the obligations of the Combat Baker profession as our young Ted here?”
“Well I don’t know about that-”
“Before you give me an answer, I have some canapés that I would be delighted for you to try. A little taste test.” Lux *Snapped* his fingers.
The Bandaged Cleric appeared at his elbow and held out a plate with two canapés sitting on it.
Ted elbowed Champ. “Come on Mr Letterman. Mr Starling here is the most famous Chef in the city.”
“Famous? The whole city? Well, I don’t want to be rude.”
Ted and Champ took a canapé apiece and bit into them.
“Oh my, oh wow. That is good.” Champ chewed with enthusiasm.
Lux leaned over to the Bandaged Cleric.
#
“I’m getting tired of plating appetizers.”
Cophin shoved another side salad onto the kitchen window.
“Tasha! Rosy!”
Tasha and Rosy stopped what they were doing and leaned over next to the kitchen window.
“Yes Sir?” “Yes Chef?”
“You two handed out all of tha original menus like I told you, didn’t you?”
“We sure did Chef.” Tasha gave a thumbs up.
“To all tha tables?”
“Yep.”
“And there have simply been, no orders for entrées, at all?”
Rosy glanced sideways at Plinth who was standing next to the wine rack. Plinth slyly gave her a small nod.
“Well, what can you expect?” Rosy shrugged.
Cophin hunched over. “What do you mean?”
Rosy stretched her shoulders. “I mean, we are up against the Galaxy Lip. With an esteemed Combat Baker as its head Chef. And a reputation for unique and exciting dishes.”
“I know what you’re doing.”
“People come to Kaseihgaeu for adventure. They want to take risks, to gamble. Then they look at our menu, all of our main dishes are basically only a list of ingredients.”
“I have told you time and time again that taste is not dependent on preparation. We are highlighting the natural flavor of the ingredients. That is tha core tenet of this restaurant!” Cophin pounded his right hand into the palm of his left.
“C’est toi le chef.” Rosy traced a finger across the hilt of the sword strapped to her chest. “Come on Tasha. Let’s go explain to every table the core tenets of our restaurant yet again. Maybe this time we’ll entice them.”
Rosy and Tasha walked away.
Cophin leaned back from the kitchen counter. He pulled a bread knife off of a lodestone strip mounted on the wall and gave it a few frustrated flips. He put the knife back. Then he repeated the process again.
Plinth casually leaned against the entryway of the kitchen. He *Popped* the cork on a bottle of wine he was holding and gave it a quick sniff.
“Very nice.” Plinth said.
“This is bullshit.” Cophin tossed the bread knife aside. It snapped to attention on the lodestone strip. “You and Lux doubled our dining area. Even if I wanted to expand the menu, how are we supposed to keep up with this many orders? I don’t know if you were paying attention Plinth, but our kitchen only has two chefs.”
“I’m a chef now?” Ash looked up from a bowl he was washing.
“No! You’re not a Chef. Not if I have any say. Maybe, a sous chef, but shut up while I’m trying ta make an argument over here.”
Ash went back to scrubbing the bowl.
Plinth tapped the cork on the end of the wine bottle. “We could pull the big grill out from the back storage room.”
“You want me to start grilling!? That would ruin the natural flavor of our ingredients. It would sabotage tha entire philosophy of our restaurant.”
“All I’m asking is for you to caramelize a few onions. Maybe some peppers as well. That’s not going to spoil anyone’s meal. It’s only utilizing sugars that were already present. Plus it might be nice to give your sous chef a new and intensive task for the evening.”
“Even if I wanted to, we don't have any fuel for the grill. We can’t spare anyone to run down to the marketplace right now.”
“Hey, I overheard you two talking.” Ash sidled up to Cophin’s elbow. He pressed his nose uncomfortably close to the older man’s face. “I can make sure that your grill is completely supplied with charcoal for the entire evening.”
“Are you sure?” Plinth asked.
“Trust me. It’s literally one of the only things I’m good at.”
Plinth looked at Ash. Ash looked at Plinth. Plinth looked at Cophin. Cophin looked at Ash.
Eins appeared at Cophin’s other elbow. The dog pressed its wet nose into the hollow of Cophin’s arm.
“Fine.” Cophin popped his neck. “I feel like starting a fire.”
“Tasha! Rosy!” Plinth shouted into the front of the restaurant. “There’s been a change to the menu!”