“Surprisingly modest, to be honest, but in good taste regardless.” - Vikont Emile Ebenzac, nobleman from Elmaiya known to be a gourmet, when asked about the fare after a state visit to Tohrutgent.
“You know, even after waking up to find myself practically immortal, and dead at the same time, I never expected that one day I’d be dining on the same table as actual royalty,” admitted Celia, who still looked quite flustered by the overall situation at hand. She had reacted quite amusingly at Aideen’s nonchalant reveal of Grandpa Aarin’s identity back then, and had yet to entirely collect herself from that surprise.
“I do not consider myself a monarch, if it helps,” replied Grandpa Aarin – now in his mortal guise – from the head of the table along with some chittering laughter. The three of them – Calais had left them to visit his parents – had adjourned to the dinner table after some small talk. “And don’t worry about me, girl, I don’t bite, no matter what the likely exaggerated rumors out there might claim.”
“Yeah, no need to be worried about Grandpa too much, Celia,” added Aideen from across the table. “He’s not big on formality anyway, at least as long as you’re not one of his students,” she quipped while laughing. “He could be a pretty harsh teacher, but for the most part, he’s just a nice, doting, and often bored old man on his high throne. I think you only took your role as High Priest with any seriousness, no, Grandpa?”
“Only because that old fossil asked me to,” replied the Bone Lord with a snark. Those in the know might be surprised to see the highest priest of a Deity in the mortal realm refer to their patron Deity so disparagingly, but given that Grandpa Aarin was old, Aideen could believe that he had an actual agreement with the Deity of Death from ages long gone. “But like she said, no need to be too formal about things. Though I’d appreciate it if you call me by my title in public, unless we happen to be going incognito at the time.”
“I… I’ll keep that in mind,” replied Celia slightly absentmindedly as she sliced into the odd looking chunk of meat on her plate. Formal meals in Ptolodecca were commonly served on large, communal plates where the diners would just pick what they liked from the presented dishes on the table. Dinner at the Bone Lord’s table apparently followed a similar etiquette.
Celia had first picked a lump of what looked like grilled meat – there were charred pieces on the outside that looked like fat – around the size of the palm of her hand at first, though when she cut into it, she noticed that what she had thought to be a solid mass was composed of multiple layers, with the outside more cooked while the inside remained rather rare, judging from the color.
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When she took a bite, she was rather surprised at the tastes and textures that filled her mouth. The outermost layer had a thin coating of fat that had been nearly crisped from the cooking process, followed by a chewy yet soft layer beneath it that also felt somewhat bristly to her tongue. Beneath those, the innermost two layers of the dish were far softer, soft enough that pressing it against the roof of her mouth with her tongue was enough to break it apart.
Similarly, the tastes differed greatly between each layer, from the charred richness of the fat outside, to the strong flavor of spices infused into the chewy layer, followed by a more gentle, meaty flavor and a more iron-y taste somewhat reminiscent of blood puddings that also had a subtle earthiness to it. It was quite a joy to feast on, to say the least.
Somehow the flavors felt somewhat familiar to Celia, yet she couldn’t pinpoint what they were.
“What is this made of?” she asked after she chewed and swallowed her first bite of the dish. “It’s very good.”
“Ah, that’s a local specialty from this region,” replied Aideen without missing a beat. “It’s made from pork liver stuffed into its lungs, wrapped with a layer of pre-seasoned parboiled tripe and caul fat, then grilled over an open fire until most of the fat renders and permeates the rest,” she explained. “It’s one of my favorites too. There’s similar food back in the northern continent, but none were quite the same.”
“Oh, right, Grandpa, heard that Mimia and Èirynn had children while I was away? Where are they, by the way?” Aideen asked as she took some food and deposited it onto her plate with the help of a pair of large spoons intended for that purpose.
“You heard right, those two had kids a few years ago. Calais told you about it I reckon?” asked the Bone Lord back, to which Aideen replied with a nod while she chewed on her food. “Those two left to visit the parents of their kids’ father in the Shadow Forest a week ago. They ought to be back in a day or two, I think.”
“Ah. Glad to hear that they have a good relationship with the man, then, at least,” noted Aideen. It wasn’t uncommon for some couples who had surrogates to cut all relations with the surrogate after the children were born, especially if it was more of a transactional sort of deal. Apparently Mimia and Èirynn had a decent relationship with their children’s surrogate father, at least.
“Why, are you feeling like you’re missing out?”
“Somewhat, I guess,” admitted Aideen rather wistfully. “Oh well, I guess I’ll get to see my new grand-nieces once they return in a bit anyway. Just sorta wished I could have been here for them when they were born, you know?”
“There was nothing to worry about, girl,” replied Grandpa Aarin rather amusedly. “While you aren’t around, it’s not like those two would be lacking in good healers to oversee the process of their childbirth. You’re probably just missing them after so long, aren’t you?”
“I guess I am, Grandpa.”