Nepenthes

The chair was too soft. It blurred the line between a cloud and quicksand. The cushion seemed ready to swallow Shiro the moment he let his guard down.

If the Royal Palace was a gilded cage, this room was a Nepenthes plant, a sweet trap waiting to kill me...

Lilith sat beside Shiro. Her left thigh pressed against his as she crossed one leg over the other, letting it rest against his as well.

This must be how he negotiates with nobles, how he manages his position as Grand Chancellor.

The seven women moved around Shiro in a practiced rhythm. One poured his wine while another placed yet another plate of food in front of him. At any given moment, at least three of them had a hand or other part of their body pressing against Shiro. All the while, they filled the room with soft giggles and wordless flirting.

Across the long table, Alamak settled into his own seat like a normal man who had just returned home from work.

"I can see you are a bit nervous. They must not be treating you right in the Palace."

Alamak lifted an ornate glass and sniffed it with genuine appreciation.

“This one is from the southern coast of the Glass Sea. Stritivoni ages it in barrels lined with a resin that only grows on a single island off the coast. It's only reachable during the winter month when the sea starts to freeze. The merchants claim you can taste all four seasons. The salt wind of the summer, the frozen wood of the winter, and so forth...."

He took a slow sip, eyes closing to enhance the taste. Meanwhile, Shiro looked down at the gold-colored liquor. One of the many cups of exotic and imported drinks in front of him.

"I think that’s romantic nonsense, but the finish is remarkable. Try it... Or don’t. There’s also a white from the high terraces of Ginobina. They harvest the grapes by moonlight. Also that purple there from Vostok. It’s made from the peeled skins of intentionally bruised radaraska toxic berries. Their skin mixes with the juices in just the right balance to not be lethal. By far the best purple I've ever had. Absurdly expensive. Absurdly good."

Alamak continued without pause.

“The roasted meat is venison, but not the common breed. These were raised in the high valleys near the old border, fed on grass that only grows on the other side of the mountain range. An even rarer delicacy these days. But the fat renders differently. Sweeter. We have them brought through in ice wagons twice a year. The journey alone kills half the yield, but the result…”

Lilith reached across and selected a thin slice for herself, then another for Shiro, placing it on his plate with a small, private smile. Her eyes never looked away from his as she alternated between biting her lips and biting the meat.

"I can understand that many men stay away from the drink. But we all must eat. And I must insist on this cut."

Shiro hesitated before taking the bite.

Then it touched his tongue and his eyes widened.

The venison didn't feel like deer. It was so soft that his teeth barely had anything to do. Warm, buttery fat spread across his tongue. Slow roasted to a rich sweet and savory taste that seemed to grow stronger the longer he held it there. It was reminiscent of wagyu steak, but this was sweeter.

"Oh!"

"See! What did I say? What Did I Say! You thought it was some gamey leather. Eat up."

Alamak kept talking.

He spoke of a fermented spirit from the far north that was drunk in burning cups to not freeze your tongue. Of a blue cheese aged in caves that had once been salt mines. Each food description came with a small anecdote, a merchant’s name, a seasonal difficulty, or a regional landscape that produced the flavors.

Is this part of it for political games? At some point he has to ask something about me besides food.

Never once did Alamak mention the war. Never once did he ask about Shiro's work or demons or members of the court.

Throughout the evening Shiro ate sparingly, his unease only growing. He tasted the wine and meat. Gave his opinions on the flavors and spoke casually about the meal.

Lilith’s body remained against his. The seven women continued taking their turns of touching him. Alamak kept smiling as he ate and spoke.

Shiro waited for the real conversation to begin, but it never came...

“Well. That’s enough for one evening.”

The Grand Chancellor stood up.

"We should do this again. It's nice teaching you about the culinary arts without the arrogance of uncultured nobles. "Foie gras made au gratin rather than confit' preposterous!"

Alamak glanced at the women still moving, then back to Shiro.

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you like. Eat. Drink. Enjoy their feminine hospitality if the mood strikes... Or return home. Whatever you prefer. The carriage will be waiting whenever you're ready.”

Alamak simply turned and walked out of the room. The double doors closed behind them with a soft, final click.

That's it? Seriously! We just talked about food?! Did I miss something!?

Lilith leaned in closer, whispering into his ear as she was getting ready to climb on top of Shrio, should he ask.

"Shall you continue with your meal? Or should I have one of the girls wash up. Or. Maybe. Me?"

"Huh? Yes... Ugh... i... uh should really be leaving. Azura has been waiting this entire time."

"Of course. Right this way."

Lilith led him out of the private room and to the gardens.

"Azura should be around her. I'll call the carriage over. Good Night, Hero."

Litith gave a deep bow before returning back inside.

It's over!!!... I shouldn't celebrate too much, I'm still on his property.

Shiro began walking through the garden, looking for Azura.

Not to mention I don't even know what kinda test it was. Maybe he intentionally didn't question anything to get me comfortable....

There in the garden, the moonlight reflecting off of Azura's blue hair, she was sitting among the flowers. Her eyes scan through Shiro's note book with a quiet focus.

Wow.. when she's not glaring at me, she's...

Azura ripped a page out of Shiro note book before crumbling it and tossing it far away.

...Never mind

"HEY! What are you doing!?”