Rowan and Alena found a carriage ready to take them to the next location for their date, an Adventure Room. They were an unfamiliar concept to Rowan, but Seres had insisted on their growing popularity before her capture. Of course, in doing so, she neglected to tell Rowan what they actually were beyond the vaguest of hints.
Unfortunately for Rowan, vague hints only added to her feeling of relative ignorance, a feeling that made her slightly apprehensive. Had she been completely blind to what was coming, it wouldn't have been so bad, but she had just enough to speculate, and her imagination could be her own worst enemy at times.
Alena, on the other hand, despite being similarly in the dark, was bounding with excitement. For her, the mystery of it all was like catnip. By the time they arrived, she could barely contain her feline curiosity.
Next to Rowan’s muted apprehension, one might mistake her for the Ardent. When they actually stepped outside of the carriage, however, Rowan was caught completely off-guard by the large warehouse of a building that stood before them.
It was almost completely unadorned bar the elaborate mural that spoke of grand adventure; majestic foothills leading into picturesque flower fields, primordial forests, and a magical arch surrounding the entrance.
Rowan couldn’t help but find herself intrigued. She was drawn to the arch, as if it was a portal to a different realm. Hand in hand with Alena, she walked towards it, tentatively at first, then speeding up to appease Alena’s enthusiastic urging.
Once inside, they were greeted by an idyllic grove and three strange individuals who swept into action.
Amongst them, a squirrely woman fidgeted over a spilled kettle. "Visitors?" she asked.
"Nay," a hooved gentleman replied, "I think not."
"Maybe they're lost?" the squirrely woman asked again as worry appeared in her puffy cheeks.
This time, it was the third individual who answered her. "From their clothes, I would assume so." He was a bear of a man, and his voice rumbled like distant thunder.
"They must have travelled far," the hooved man opined.
"Truly."
A confused Rowan tried to interject, but Alena nudged her to be silent. Then, as if on cue, two more individuals walked into the scene; a child with a venerable air and an ageless wisdom in their eyes, followed by a mousey man whose nose seemed to twitch nervously with every step.
"I'm disappointed," the child said, her head shaking with aeons of disapproval.
"Milady, we were just…"
"Quiet, Sikwendi!" the child demanded of the hooved gentleman, who immediately retreated behind the bear man. "We have guests, and rather than introduce yourselves, you seem intent on questioning their validity and making assumptions."
After reprimanding the original three, the child turned to Rowan and Alena. "Please forgive my companions for their rudeness." She punctuated her request with a polite bowing of her head.
"There's nothing to forgive," Rowan replied, her voice cracking nervously as confusion still caressed her thoughts.
"You are most gracious," the child smiled. "I am Eldarin, Watcher of the Forgotten Grove, and they are my aides and companions. May I ask your names and what brings you to my humble abode? Are you adventurers?"
"I'm Rowan, and this is…"
"Alena! And we are indeed on a grand adventure."
"Is that so? Then maybe you are the brave souls we have been waiting for? Adventurer Rowan, Adventurer Alena, I have a request."
"Pray tell!" Alena practically shouted. Rowan didn't even have time to open her mouth.
"A great foe threatens the land, and I can't abandon the Forgotten Grove. I ask that ye brave adventurers go in my stead to vanquish the enemy."
"We will," Rowan replied, her brain finally catching up with what was going on.
"Thank you. Rodin here will help guide you to the Dark Ruins of Eskador." Eldarin motioned to the mousey man who had followed her in.
He sniffled nervously and bowed. "Rodin at your service."
*****
The Adventure Room lived up to its name, at least in part. It was as if they had been thrown into the middle of a novel and they were the brave heroes destined to save the world. Every moment was a performance. Every action supported the narrative. Even the entry fee played into the experience, as they were made to pay a ferryman to reach the ruins.
Where the name fell short, however, was in how it completely failed to convey the scale of the whole thing. By the time they reached the end of their adventure, Rowan had been turned around countless times. So much so that she could hardly believe it when they stepped outside of the same building they had entered or that only four or so hours had passed.
"How do you think they did it?" Alena asked enthusiastically as they closed off the second phase of their date with some clothes shopping. They needed a change of clothes for the final phase of their date.
They had passed on the carriage in order to give themselves some respite from enclosed spaces.
"I've been wondering that myself," Rowan answered, a whimsical smile further speaking of awe-filled wonderment. "They definitely used different levels for the various sets."
"Well, yeah," Alena rolled her eyes, "I'm pretty sure we climbed the equivalent of a large hill by the end of it."
"Considering the Underking's lair was supposedly carved out of a mountain peak, I would hope so," Rowan laughed.
Alena stuck her tongue out at Rowan and pouted.
"Are you trying to be cute?” Rowan asked.
"Yes. No! Maybe?"
Rowan squeezed her hand. "I think I'm rubbing off on you."
"If you mean how I immediately saw the double entendre in what you just said, possibly. If you didn't? I've always been occasionally like this."
A delicate rose painted Rowan’s cheek as she was made aware of her own innuendo and the realisation that there was a hidden truth to Alena’s words. It was almost too easy to recognise innuendo in others, be it intentional or not, but recognising your own unintentional slips without aid? Well, sometimes ignorance is bliss.
Alena smiled. "Now you're the one being cute."
"No, you."
Rowan had given up on making an articulate response before she had even began, but even she was impressed by the unabashed awkwardness of her attempt at a charming reversal. Rather than laugh at her like Rowan half-expected, Alena instead kissed her cheek.
"I like it when you fumble around," Alena whispered. "I love that you feel safe enough to be a little foolish around me."
Rowan hadn't considered that angle, but it was true, emotions like fear and anticipation tended to mitigate the more foolish aspects of her personality, especially when she felt like she was in danger. There were exceptions, of course, but the emotional cocktails that inspired them were risky in their own right.
"I could kiss you right now," Rowan whispered back to Alena.
"Maybe when we're not in the middle of a major thoroughfare," Alena responded with a slight giggle.
Noticing the unimpressed onlookers, Rowan tightened her grip on Alena’s hand, and they picked up the pace. It didn’t take much longer for them to find a seamstress with the right style and sizing.
A bored young woman greeted them from the counter when they entered the showroom.
"Welcome to The Golden Thimble. How may I be of service?"
"Hello," Alena smiled. "We have found ourselves a spot underdressed for our dinner plans and are in need of some dresses. Perhaps you can point us in the right direction?"
The woman wore both confusion and curiosity on her face as she looked at the couple. "Let me just…"
Alena stopped her as she started turning away from them. "We'll also need our current clothes returned to the palace."
"Do you have any styles in mind?" the woman asked, snapping back immediately. She was notably more animated now.
"There were a couple from amongst the ones you have on display, though I'm sure I can trust your judgement."
"Of course! I could even make some quick adjustments if needed."
"Will that really be necessary?" Rowan asked.
Alena put forth a nearly flawless facade as she turned to Rowan, though it was clear from the slight upward turn to her lips that she was plotting and having fun in doing so. "You know just as much as I, how important a good fit is, Rowan."
Rowan rolled her eyes, thankfully whilst the seamstress was turned away. She was inclined to agree, but the items on display, whilst very good, were not at a level where she felt the young woman would be able to make a meaningful difference in the time they had. Still, she was not about to deny her partner her fun.
"Fine. I shall defer to your better judgement."
Alena flashed a grin. "As you should."
They then went on to show the seamstress the styles that interested them before being taken to a measuring room. The woman saw to them with a level of skill and efficiency that caught Rowan completely off-guard. By the time she was finished, their new dresses not only fit them perfectly, but they had been personalised to the point of being unrecognisable from the originals, and not in a bad way.
"Wow," Rowan breathed as she admired herself in the mirror. "How did…:
A louder, almost volcanic voice echoed into the room from the direction of the showroom. "Namira!"
The young woman's face dropped.
"Shit."
"You can go," Alena told her. "You'll find payment with our other clothes along with a list of people who might appreciate your skills."
"Thank you."
"Namira!"
"I should really go."
Alena nodded. "We won't keep you. Shall we, Rowan?"
"Yes?" Rowan answered as Alena proffered a hand.
With a smile, Alena stepped in beside her, taking Rowan’s hand in her own. They exited the same way the woman had, though they carried on to leave the shop proper. She was being berated by an older woman as they left.
"Are you going to tell me what that was about?" Rowan asked, having paused just outside the shop.
"Nope," Alena smiled mischievously.
"Well, you clearly saw something I didn't."
"Perhaps. Or maybe it was a lucky guess?"
"I seriously doubt that," Rowan said dryly.
"And why is that?"
"You don’t strike me as a risk taker."
"I took a chance with you, didn't I?" Alena protested.
Rowan gave Alena a wry smile. "Well, I'm clearly the correct choice and not at all risk-prone."She could see the cogs turning as it became clear she was pulling Alena’s leg.
Alena pouted in mock outrage. "You're incorrigible!"
"I prefer to think of myself as mercurial."
"Why not both?"
"They are somewhat contradictory."
"I'm sure you'll find a way."
"Challenge accepted."
*****
They passed several restaurants in their search for the ideal spot, but each one fell short. Most were just too busy for their liking, whilst others felt like they catered to different tastes. Eventually, however, they found one that seemed to resonate amidst the competition.
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Elen Del Riin.
Rowan didn't recognise the name. It wasn't Midiran, Særan, or Ferran, and it seemed far too fluid to be one of the other Talrasian languages. From the pondering frown, Alena was similarly lost on the name.
"We could ask?" Rowan whispered as they made their way to the entrance.
"I don't want to come across as uncultured," Alena whispered back.
"Then we should probably compose ourselves."
"Agreed."
The outside of the restaurant was sleek and modest in a way that oozed class and the interior capitalised on an alluring use of white and black marble. All the lighting appeared to be Resonance Crystal based as well. Not wanting to be caught off-guard by the eventual cost, Rowan started formulating an estimation.
They were greeted by a smartly dressed gentleman standing at what looked like a lectern. Behind him on his left was a pair of open double doors that led into the restaurant proper, and on his right was the same buy leading into a bar.
"Name, seal, or signet," the gentleman stated as they approached.
"Excuse me," Rowan replied.
"Name, seal, or signet," the gentleman repeated.
Alena presented her signet ring, and Rowan hesitated for a moment before remembering the Seal of the Ardent Flame. The gentleman was scrolling through a small book as Rowan collected the seal from her purse.
"It would seem this signet isn't registered," the man said, looking up. He then turned to Rowan.
"Perhaps…"
His eyes lit up in recognition when he saw the Seal of the Ardent Flame.
"Yes, that will do. We shall have a table prepared post haste, though we do require a deposit of ten gold loops first. If you would like to wait in the bar, someone will come find you when it is ready.”
"A table for two?" They had been interrupted by a sharply dressed waiter with a tailored waistcoat and a pencil moustache that had been groomed to a heartstopping point.
"Yes!" Rowan answered quickly.
"Capital. My name is Veiruun Deimund, and I shall be your host for this evening. If you would follow me."
The host led them with a grace and fluidity that inspired envy in dancers like Rowan. Even the way he adjusted his stride to match their notably smaller statures was effortless. Rowan almost found herself getting lost in his wake. She dared not fall into a trance, however.
Alena, on the other hand, had no such reservations as her eyes lost focus. She was so mesmerised that Rowan had to stop her as they approached their table before Veiruun noticed.
"Your table, madames," Veiruun announced. They had been given a private alcove in the restaurant's garden. Despite it being almost winter, it was surprisingly warm and comforting, like a lover's embrace.
"Where is the heat coming from?" Alena asked. "I don't see a fire."
"We have a series of adjustable Heat Crystal Arrays providing warmth through the floor."
Rowan had to stop her jaw from dropping as Veiruun's explanation made her realise how exceptionally expensive the restaurant was going to be if it could afford such an installation. She immediately doubled her initial prediction to help mitigate the eventual blindsiding.
"You can rest easy, madame," Veiruun told Rowan.
"Huh?"
"All we require from you today is the deposit you paid upon entering this establishment."
He's a mind reader!
"It was written all over your face, Rowan."
"Oh." She had once again been betrayed by the honesty of body language. Rather than dwell on the matter, however, she turned to the question it had created. "How do you make money then?" It was blunter than she'd have liked, but she couldn't think of a better way of phrasing it.
"With the exception of present company, our clientèle are all returning or have been introduced by another customer. We send them the invoice at a later date, and if they don't pay, the invoice is sent to the one who introduces them. Continued failure is met with blacklisting for the individual and their associates. We find the social contract keeps people honest."
"But we're the exception?" Alena asked.
"Of a sort. The Ardent Flame is the talk of the town, and the madame's seal was the final piece in helping my colleague realise your identities. We have no doubt the crown is good for any expenses you muster. Now would you like to see our taster menus, or would you rather trust the chef's intuition with the tailored spread?
"What does that entail?" Alena asked.
"Through the skilled application of their Gift, the chef would craft a small banquet for your personalised enjoyment. You have already told them everything they need to know for them to start formulating a menu."
"How?" Rowan asked. "We haven't spoken to them, have we? Or is it actually you?"
"They made their observations while you sat at the bar and later when I led you to this table."
"Impressive," Alena replied.
"Normally, they would also introduce themselves, but they are, unfortunately, a particularly luminous Miriel."
Rowan’s brows rose inquisitively, her curiosity piqued. She had to ask. "They wouldn't happen to be the owner, would they?"
"A sound observation, madame. They are indeed."
"Well, they have my challenge, then. I'll have the tailored spread," Rowan decided.
"As will I," Alena added.
"Capital," Veiruun replied. "As for refreshments, each dish will be paired with a complementary beverage, and freshly chilled water will be available whenever you desire it."
"Can we also order drinks separately?" Rowan asked.
"Of course," Veiruun answered. "Do you wish to see the menu?"
The couple gave their affirmation in near unison, and Veiruun bowed. "Then if you'll excuse me, I shall inform the chef of your request before returning with the menu."
*****
They decided to forgo drinks after a brief perusal of the menu. There were too many options, and Rowan lacked the experience to know how one wine differed from another or if it mattered how long whiskey had been aged for.
Even Alena was at a loss. She had many of the answers that Rowan was missing, but she had never gone out of her way to learn all the top names. The exception being the name of a wine made by a somewhat famous vintner with ties to her family.
The two also realised that there was a very real possibility that they could order something that'd clash with their meal; an unfortunate side effect of not knowing what was being prepared.
When they informed Veiruun a short while later, they could tell they had made the right decision. Even with his mask of professionalism, they could see the approving smile on the edge of his lips.
He left with the drinks menu afterward to give them some privacy as they waited for the first dish to arrive. Both of them were optimistically curious about the promise that awaited them.
It helped that, unlike with the Adventure Room, the veil of ignorance wasn't a deterrent for Rowan. She knew exactly what she was getting herself into this time, after all, even if she didn't know what the outcome would be. Furthermore, she chose to go with the mystery option when she could have taken the safer choice.
*****
The air was still when Veiruun returned with the first dish. For Rowan, a quenelle of light cheese mousse resting on a silver spoon and paired with a small tasting glass of dry red wine. For Alena, a small nest of crispy fried onions and potatoes housing a single egg yolk and dusted with paprika and other spices. Her dish was paired with a light beer.
Looking at the mousse before her, Rowan was somewhat disappointed. Perhaps even offended. Even with her small stature, there was no way a spoonful of mousse was a full-on dish.
"What’s the matter, Rowan?" Alena asked as she considered how to best approach her own dish.
"I was expecting more," Rowan replied glumly.
"Oh right, you're not used to larger multi-course dinners, are you? This is perfectly normal. They start with a dish like this to whet the appetite with each dish that follows building up to the next whilst offering a new experience."
"Oh."
Rowan picked up the spoon tentatively in her right hand before switching it over to her left, giving her easier access to her water. The thick mousse was unphased by her awkward manoeuvring. It just lay there in the bowl of the spoon, waiting to be consumed.
Rather than drag out the moment any longer than it had to be, Rowan obliged, taking the entire morsel in one. It was saltier than she expected, though not in a bad way. There was also a pleasant tang to it as it danced across her tongue.
The true flavour, however, came as her saliva started breaking down the structure of the mousse, thus releasing the intoxicating aromatic compounds held within. It was like an explosion in her mouth, a sensation that she could only just describe.
And then it was over, lingering long enough to tease, yet not so long as to overwhelm.
Rowan sat there with lips parted ever so slightly, her breathing heavy, perhaps even laboured. She was used to quality food, but there was a complexity here that was almost magical.
Had it just been the initial flavour profile, she would have been impressed. With the flavour bomb, she would have been amazed. With everything breaking down and leaving her palate refreshed, her mind was blown.
Just across from her, Alena was also smiling blissfully. Her nest was no more. There wasn't even a hint of it remaining. Rowan did notice something adorably amiss, however.
With a finger, she leant over and wiped away the small rolling drop of egg yolk from her lips.
Alena jumped back in surprise. "What’s wrong?" she asked, the alarm clear in her voice.
With a mischievous twinkle to her lips, Rowan smiled, answering Alena as she licked the yolk from her fingers. "You spilt something," she said.
A napkin flew to Alena's face at blushing speed. Unfortunately for her, the blush had much less distance to cover, thus making it an adorably futile endeavour.
Silvery peals filled the garden as Rowan giggled warmly. "I was hoping for a reaction like that," she said.
Muffled by her napkin and a fair bit of petulant mumbling, Alena responded with, "At least I didn't point out how you moaned over your food."
"What was that?" Rowan replied back. She knew exactly what Alena had said, but she also knew Alena was putting on an act, and she wanted to play into it a wee bit.
"I said, 'At least I didn't point out that you were moaning!'" This time it was clear and punctuated with dramatic emphasis.
Responding in kind, Rowan let her face become painted in mock horror. "I'd never!"
"You most definitely would, and you know it!"
"Be that as it may!"
"Ahem."
They were interrupted by the clearing of a throat; a small, courteous gesture that taught them the true meaning of horror. If there were other guests within earshot, their conversation would probably be seen as scandalous.
"It is fortuitous, it seems, that we had the foresight to give our esteemed guests some extra privacy."
Having announced himself, Veiruun stood completely unfazed at the entrance of their private alcove. He appeared completely unpeturbed by their conversation. So much so, that Rowan was tempted to push on his emotions to check he wasn't a Stoic. Were it not for the added awkwardness that would strengthen her own desires, she probably would have.
Fortunately, any notion of tempting fate slipped away as Veiruun went on to explain after Alena asked him what he meant.
"We believe it best to ere on the side of caution with Awakened clientèle, especially a young Ardent in love with a Gift of the Lover. As such, we gave you the space with the most privacy. Even a terrified Ardent with the Gift of the Eagle would have difficulty eavesdropping on this garden."
To hear Veiruun correctly identify the grouping of her Gift was rather unnerving. There weren't any Gifts that would easily provide that information, afterall, which meant the information brokers were going all out in uncovering everything there was to know about her. What else did they know? She dared not ask.
"That's good to know," Rowan replied.
"Of course. If you are ready, I shall bring the next dish."
"Yes, thank you."
*****
"That was incredible," Alena sighed.
"You can say that again," Rowan replied, having just finished her dessert.
The dish was borderline indescribable. When it was served, Veiruun presented her with a candied orb that rested on a vanilla cream topped round of rose sponge. What truly made the dish special, however, was a floral mist trapped by the delicate walls of the candied orb that enchanted the nostrils when the shell was cracked.
Alena looked over at Rowan with curiosity in her eyes. "Which dish was your favourite?" she asked.
"Everything."
"Cheat."
"Well, how else do you expect me to answer? It was all amazing."
"You could still have a favourite. Mine was the saffron-poached halibut and rice."
"It did smell delicious," Rowan admitted. She'd been served perfectly rare Drakiir steak with a side of rosemary-butter potatoes and violet-tipped asparagus for the same course, which was admittedly to die for, but Rowan wasn't sure if she could call it her favourite.
"So…"
Alena clearly wasn't satisfied with her answer.
Time to give this some real thought.
"I liked the soup."
That surprised Rowan.
Can you even taste, Rina?
"No, but I can get an idea from how it makes you think and feel."
Fair enough, I guess, but the soup is probably at the bottom of my list.
"Your loss."
Considering I actually got to eat it, I'm inclined to disagree.
"No need to rub it in. Anyway, while it is nice chatting, using the emotional stimulation of your date to do so is going to lead to things I have no intention of experiencing vicariously."
Rowan had to stop herself from blushing out of nowhere as she knew exactly what Rina was hinting at.
"Is everything okay?" Alena asked.
"Oh. Aye. Sorry."
Thinking quickly now, Rowan considered the entire meal. The mousse was certainly a contender, but it realistically fell behind the other options on account of portion size.
Then there was cream and sweetpea soup that Rina seemed to like. It was certainly delicious, but Rowan felt like it was crafted in order to not overwhelm the palate before the Drakiir steak immediately after.
Out of all the dishes, however, if she could only pick one, she'd have to choose the warm, smoked wood pigeon salad and the cherry dressing it came with. The flavours came together perfectly, only to be further enhanced by the complementary textures, resulting in an indescribable mouthfeel. A perfect mix of crunchy salad and tender flesh alongside tart sweetness and lightly smoked game.
Alena seemed content with her answer, and they were soon getting ready to leave for the final stop of their date.
"Are you sure you don't mind me choosing how we end the date?"
"If you have something you want to do, I'll happily keep this date going until we have no other choice."
"You aren't tired?"
"Are you?"
"Only slightly, but I think you'll like what I have in mind for us."
Rowan smiled. "Colour me intrigued."
"Oh, I intend to colour you more than just intrigued. Davra suggested this place to me."
From her limited interactions with Davra, Rowan was convinced there would be some spice to her suggestions.
"Now I'm curious."
*****
Rowan’s estimation of the spice behind Davra's suggestion was found wanting. The Honey Peach Inn beckoned them like a lover promising to tantalise their every sense. From the large open common room filled with cushioned booths and scantily clad hosts and hostesses, Rowan doubted people did much sleeping here: not in the typical sense, that is.
"Are you sure this is the place?" Rowan asked as a hostess led them to a booth with a clear view of the stage.
Alena jumped slightly at the question. "Sorry, what was that?"
She was staring. Not that Rowan could blame her. The uniforms were enchanting; tailed waistcoats, tiny skirts or shorts, and little more, regardless of gender.
Rowan decided not to repeat the question. Even if Davra hadn't suggested the Honey Peach Inn to Alena, they were certainly going to have a good time.
Once they were settled in to their booth, they were joined by a couple of hosts and hostesses. They had been asked their preferences on their way in, and both admitted to being interested in both, so they were provided with both.
The hosts and hostesses drank with them and gossiped, the conversation ranging from fairly tame to a lusty inferno. Both Rowan and Alena were blushing furiously as the music picked up and a giant peach rose onto the stage.
Fourteen dancers emerged from the peach, seven of whom strutted forwards with canes, heeled shoes, and netted stockings. The other seven stepped into position behind them as the music rose to the crescendo, and then it stopped.
A moment later, the first seven dancers twisted their canes with a flick of their heels, and the dance began. The hosts and hostesses who were accompanying Rowan and Alena shifted away and pushed the two closer together. Rowan could feel Alena’s heat.
The show continued, and it delivered on the promise of tantalising the senses. The dance was like nothing Rowan had seen or experienced before. She knew dancing could be sensual, but this was something else. Something more.
It was mesmerising. Powerful. Perhaps even erotic. At the same time, it didn’t feel sexual. At least, not exactly. Yes, she found it alluring and a little arousing, but she had the feeling that it held a different purpose beyond evoking such emotions.
As the dance reached its climax, Rowan was ultimately left with a single word to describe it.
Beautiful.