The Thornwald dining hall stretched twice the length of Clive's old apartment. Crystal chandeliers shone down on a chestnut oak table that could seat twenty. Servants moved between the kitchen and table, carrying silver platters and decanters of wine.

  Clive took his seat across from Lucia. Lord Thornwald helped Lady Thornwald into her chair before taking his seat at the head of the table.

  “I’m glad you could join us for dinner Clive,” Lord Thornwald said. We’ve prepared a humble meal as thanks.”

  The first course arrived. Three different cuts of bluefin tuna, each draped over an oval of seasoned rice. The fish gleamed under the chandelier light, deep red graduating to pale pink at the edges. A servant placed a crystal glass of pale red wine beside his plate and retreated without a word.

  “It’s a new dish from the eastern continents,” Lord Thornwald explained. “They call it sushi.”

  Clive licked his lips. He had grown up eating supermarket sushi, the pre-made kind with frozen rice and questionable fish. Then Maxwell & Rhodes had landed the Yamamoto account, and his supervisor had taken the team to Nobu for the signing dinner. That night had redefined what fish could taste like.

  The pieces in front of him reminded him of that dinner.

  Clive picked up the first piece with his fingers. The rice held together beneath the deep red tuna, slightly warm and vinegared. The fish dissolved on his tongue, clean and mineral like cold seawater. The second piece was richer, marbled with white fat that melted in his mouth. The third liquefied into pure ocean butter over perfectly seasoned rice.

  “This is incredible,” Clive exclaimed as he wolfed down the sushi pieces.

  Lord Thornwald laughed. "We're trying to introduce sushi to the noble houses, but most of them think raw fish is barbaric.”

  "They're idiots," Lucia said.

  “Language, young lady,” Lady Thornwald chided her.

  Lucia speared a piece with her chopsticks. "What else would you call someone who refuses to try something based on prejudice?"

  "Customers." Lord Thornwald said. "Though once they taste quality like this..." He gestured toward Clive's empty plate. "The nobles will react the same way.”

  "After they get over calling it primitive," Lucia said.

  "They called coffee primitive too. Now they can't hold court without it. One more year. That's all I need to make raw fish the height of sophistication. I'm already building the infrastructure: ice houses, trained fishmongers, exclusive contracts with the eastern fleets."

  "The Merchant's Guild thinks you're insane…doing all these for fish," Lady Thornwald said.

  “The Merchant's Guild thinks too small. They see cargo, I see a fish market that houses fish from across the world. Eastern tuna, western salmon… all of it will move through my market. Marblehaven will be the fish capital of the world.”

  "Lucius has been working on this for over two years now," Lady Thornwald said. "Ever since he went to the trade summit at Higakuni."

  “The stone curse nearly destroyed everything. Half my captains refused to sail here.” Lord Thornwald shook his head. “But even with that solved, the real challenge is logistics. Every ship needs an ice mage to keep the fish fresh during transport. Do you know how expensive it is to hire a competent frost caster for a month’s voyage?”

  "More than the cargo?" Clive guessed.

  "More than the ship. But once I control the supply chain from boat to market..."

  "You'll control the global fish trade," Clive finished. He couldn’t help but feel a tinge of admiration for Lord Thornwald’s business acumen.

  "Exactly. While everyone else is still debating whether raw fish is civilized, we'll have cornered the market from the east to the west." Lord Thornwald raised his wine glass. "But that's tomorrow's empire. Tonight—to the artist who saved my wife."

  “To Clive!” Lucia echoed.

  The four of them raised their glasses in a toast.

  The wine hit Clive's tongue with layers he couldn't parse: red fruits, earth, and a bit of toast. Clive was never one to appreciate wine, but his time with Lucia had taught him that this was an outstanding quality wine, nothing like the bottles he'd bought at Trader Joe's.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Lucia held her glass to the light, swirling it. She brought it to her nose, then took the smallest sip. "The fruit structure indicates this is a pinot noir, but the tannins are too refined for local vineyards." She took another sip. "Cherry and blackcurrant, with iron underneath. This level of complexity and balance, I can only think of one producer. It has to be House Romanée-Conti."

  "Every time." Lord Thornwald shook his head. "I could serve you wine in complete darkness and you'd name the vineyard, the year, probably the damned weather during harvest."

  She tilted the glass, watching the color at the rim. "The browning at the edges means at least fifteen years of age. But the fruit hasn't faded, so it was an exceptional year. 829 was too wet. 831 had that early frost." She took a final sip. "830. There was a dry spring which made the roots dig deeper. That's why the mineral notes are so pronounced. It’s from their Grands échezeaux plots. You can taste the limestone."

  Lady Thornwald chuckled as she reached for the decanter. ” Your grandmother had the same gift. She could tell you which week it rained during harvest.”

  "We are blessed tonight. The Romanée-Conti’s use this as the base for their famed elixirs," Lucia said. "The monks claim the soil has sacred properties. Nonsense, of course, but the terroir does produce unusual ether concentrations."

  "This bottle alone could buy a small shop in the merchant quarter," Lord Thornwald said. "But Romanée-Conti won't sell to just anyone.”

  “Amazing what ten years of birthday gifts can accomplish,” Lady Thornwald said.

  Clive took another sip, trying to taste what Lucia described. Iron? Limestone? All he got was expensive. "Wouldn't white wine work better with the fish?"

  "That's what everyone assumes," Lucia said. "White with fish, red with meat. But the richness of fatty tuna has more in common with beef than most seafood. The tannins cut through the oil, clean your palate between bites."

  "Most people serve sake with sushi," Lord Thornwald said. "The eastern merchants insist on it."

  "Because they're trying to sell sake too. Rice wine with rice and fish? You're just layering the same flavors. The pinot brings out the iron in the tuna, makes it taste more like ocean."

  Clive wasn't sure he understood the chemistry of tannins and fish oils, but he nodded along anyway.

  The servants cleared the dishes and brought shallow bowls filled with butter-poached abalone. The shellfish had the texture of a firm mushroom but had that rich umami taste. Lucia explained something about the scoring technique allowing the butter to penetrate while Lord Thornwald discussed abalone diving rights along the northern coast.

  Next came lobster, split and steamed with the meat pulled from the shells and reassembled over a creamy sauce. Clive cracked a claw open, extracting the meat with a tiny silver fork. Back in LA, lobster meant Red Lobster on special occasions. After Maxwell & Rhodes, it meant lobster-flavored ramen from the convenience store. This was different. The meat was sweet enough to eat plain, making the sauce almost unnecessary.

  "The lobsters come from the Thornwald fleet," Lady Thornwald said. "Lucius insists on keeping the best ones for our table."

  "Quality control," Lord Thornwald said, pulling meat from a leg joint. "I wouldn’t sell what I haven't verified myself."

  The servants brought new wine with each course. Clive lost track after the third glass, everything blurring into alcohol. Her father challenged Lucia with increasingly obscure bottles, but she never missed. Lucia could identify each one, down to the vineyard, the year, sometimes the specific hillside where the grapes grew.

  The main course was lamb, the leg roasted whole and carved tableside. The meat was pink in the center, crusted with herbs that Clive’s [Apothecary’s Nose] recognized as rosemary, thyme, and fennel.

  The final course arrived. Individual glass bowls filled with caramelized cream custard. Clive cracked through the crust with his spoon. The custard underneath was silky and flavored with vanilla. He made sure to scrape every last trace of the custard from his glass bowl, leaving it perfectly clean.

  Five courses, each one better than anything he’d ever eaten. For too long, he had been living on barely edible food. Now his body felt warm and heavy with butter, wine, and tender meat.

  [Status: Well Satisfied]

  Power Level x 1.25

  HP x 1.25

  MP x 1.25

  Duration: 5 hrs

  The notification hung in the air for a moment before fading. Clive blinked. So this was the benefit of good food. A twenty five percent increase to all his basic attributes. It would have taken him countless hours of grinding to gain those stats. Here, he’d gained it from a single dinner.

  His mind raced through the implications. If quality food could amplify his abilities, then learning to create that food became as important as mastering any weapon. And it would come with the added benefit of not having to live like a starving artist for once.

  "Well then." Lord Thornwald pushed back from the table. "It has been a lovely dinner. Is there anything else you need?"

  Clive set down his spoon. "Actually, there is something."

  "Name it."

  "Could I meet your chef?"

  Lord Thornwald raised an eyebrow. Lady Thornwald exchanged a glance with Lucia, who smirked in response.

  "The chef?" Lord Thornwald's mouth twitched. "That’s a most interesting request…"

  "That was one of the best meals I've ever had. I’d like to learn from whoever prepared it. "

  "Kitchen work?" Lord Thornwald leaned forward. "You’re serious? You could ask for anything."

  "I am asking for something. That meal was incredible."

  Lord Thornwald's expression shifted to genuine curiosity. "An artist who wants to cook. How refreshingly practical." He nodded to a servant. " Fetch master Jiro and Robuchon. Tell them they have an admirer."

  Day 847 since arriving in Marblehaven: The young Pictomancer asked to learn knife work today. Told him my kitchen is not a playground for nobles with artistic hobbies. He said he wasn't noble, wasn't playing, and if I taught him the art of cooking, he could draw them perfectly forever after. Strangest student request I've received. Also the most interesting.

  —Kitchen journal of Master Jiro, Thornwald Manor