Have so much work today.
Throws snippet. Runs.
A gentle chime sounded through the room. Ramona rose, crossed the floor to the opposite wall, and retrieved a tray of food from a niche. She brought it to the table and set it in front of him. A dish of spicy soup, smoked fish, four different types of local cheese, small fried pastries, skewers of meat grilled over an open fire, still sizzling, crusty golden bread, and honeyed Rada berries.
Suddenly, he was ravenous.
Ramona ladled the soup into two bowls and passed one to him. He drank it. Spiced just right. He took a second swallow. Even better.
“Good,” he said.
She rolled her eyes. “Of course it’s good. Everything here is good. They’re serving our family recipes.”
“In that case, I should have said passable.”
“Clearly, you don’t value your life.”