Two guards remain on the street while others occupy the restaurant. Arisanna barely seems to notice them.
Father’s elite warrior band follows him many places, but not like this. And not every moment of the day.
Not that Father needs them always at his side with his powerful magic. Perhaps the guards are more comforting to humans with no magic to protect themselves.
They just feel smothering to Cerian.
The well-dressed man sets menus in front of them before bowing and leaving them to make their choices.
Cerian looks at the letters swimming on the page. He needs to learn to read Nunian. He should have learned when his tutors tried to teach him. It would have made his life easier now.
Which is what Father tried to tell him.
Arisanna starts describing the offerings on the menu as if she’s thinking out loud, trying to decide what she wants. It only takes Cerian a few moments to realize she’s doing it for his benefit.
When she describes a meal of fried eggs and sausage with a biscuit and a side of apple slices, he squeezes her hand. That sounds like something he might be able to force down.
Queen Yalisa seems happy to converse with Arisanna about the menu, and Cerian sits quietly, staring at the jumbled letters in front of him, hoping no one will try to draw him into a conversation.
Soon, the well-dressed man returns and offers all the appropriate niceties to the royal family of Nunia, which includes Cerian now.
It’s a strange thought. He’s a Prince of Nunia now, isn’t he?
“What can I get you, Your Highness?” the man asks Cerian after Arisanna’s parents make their requests.
Cerian glances at Arisanna and clears his throat. “Perhaps my wife would like to order first.”
“Of course.” The man turns to Arisanna. “Your Highness?”
She rattles off the meal Cerian chose, ordering it for herself, and he forces himself not to gape at her.
She’s doing that for him. So no one will know he can’t read Nunian.
She didn’t have to do that, but he loves her for it.
“I’ll have the same,” Cerian says quietly to the man, who nods.
“Of course, Your Highness. I’ll be back with your drinks soon.”
What drink did Cerian order? What did Arisanna order? He missed that part.
Not that it matters. He’ll manage.
Whenthe man returns with a mug full of steaming dark liquid, Cerian stares at it. It doesn’t smell like tea.
It smells bitter.
The man also sets a glass of translucent amber liquid in front of Cerian. That looks like apple cider.
Knowing Arisanna, it probably is. She’d definitely order apple cider for him.
“Do you drink coffee in Lostariel?” Queen Yalisa asks as she adds other things to her mug of the bitter black liquid.
Cerian mouths the word.Coffee. It sounds vaguely familiar. Something Elowyn or Tharios told him about, probably.
“I have never experienced this...coffee.” He pushes out the words.
“They usually serve tea with breakfast in Lostariel,” Arisanna says. She adds sugar to her coffee and a bit of what appears to be milk or cream.
