Isle of Wysteria: The Monolith Crumbles (26 page)

She scratched her elbow. “Oh, well, I’m sure it’s no big deal.”

Dwale looked up at her. “No big deal? But…you punched him in the face.”

Unable to hold it back, Privet allowed a smile to break through. “Okay, you were right, this is fun.”

An incredulous waiter came up and set their menus down before them. With a practiced flip of his wrist, their silken napkins were laid out on their laps.

Setsuna gave Privet an impressed look, as if to say, ‘ooh fancy.’ Privet cracked a grin in return.

Dwale could only gawk at the contents. “I didn’t even know there were this many kinds of food. Is this every dish from the whole world?”

“Not quite, sir.”

The waiter spun his hand around and a wooden tablet appeared in his palm. “What would the…ahem, ‘lady’ prefer this evening?”

Setsuna craned her head to check out a silver dessert cart being wheeled to another table. “Let’s start with two of everything from that dessert thingy.”

Their waiter sniffed. “Two, Madam?”

“Yeah, that way we can take the ones we like back to the ship in a doggy bag.”

Their waiter sniffed. “Pardon me, Madam, but this is Meeriuge Effus’ettu, we do not have…doggy bags here.”

“Until now,” she said with a wink of her green eye, slipping a pair of gold coins into his shirt pocket.

As their waiter walked away in disgust, Setsuna peaked over Privet’s shoulder.

“So, what do you boys want for an appetizer?”

Dwale furrowed his brow. “What’s an appetizer?”

“That’s the food we eat while they make our food.”

Dwale blinked. “I thought you just ordered that.”

“No, that was dessert. Desert is the food we eat after we eat our food.”

Dwale shook his head. “No wonder women are always worried about gaining weight. You eat before you eat and then again after you eat.”

Setsuna slipped her delicate hands around Privet’s strong arm, giving the rock-hard muscles a little squeeze. “So, they have a thing here called the couple’s cozette, where you feed each other from the same dish. It’s supposed to be very romantic.”

“Is that why you brought us here?”

“What? Me? No, of course not. Dwale, your brother and I are having the couple’s cozette, what are you having?”

“Hey.”

Dwale sheepishly looked over the fine inscriptions, then folded up his menu. “Um, can I just have some gruel?”

Setsuna laughed. “Gruel? Why would you want to order gruel from a place like this?”

Dwale looked down, not wanting to answer.

Setsuna picked up her own menu and scanned through it. “I don’t even think they have gruel here…”

Then she realized what was happening and looked over at Dwale, who was sitting there, mortified.

Her expression became sympathetic. “You don’t know how to read, do you?”

Dwale shook his head in disgrace. “That is reserved for house-husbands. Breeders…don’t need to know how to read.”

Privet moved to say something, but Setsuna beat him to it. “That’s okay,” she said, placing her hand over his. “You know what? I don’t know how to swim.”

Dwale wiped his eyes to make sure there were no tears there. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. I never learned.”

“But, you grew up in a swamp.”

“I know, right? Do you know how hard it is to live in a swamp when you don’t know how to swim? Going home from school, I’d have to walk around every pond and puddle, tracing the edges between them sometimes so I wouldn’t fall in. For the rivers, I’d have to find a ferry or make a bridge from a fallen tree. Took me twenty minutes sometimes just to get to the neighbor’s house. Sawyn would always be calling me to hurry up. Now she was a great swimmer. One time when I was twelve I lost my footing and fell in. I was thrashing and screaming, but all that did was give me a mouthful of water. Then suddenly I felt her hand grab me by the wrist and start pulling. She had dove in to save me, ruining the beautiful summer dress father had just bought for her.”

Setsuna leaned back and rubbed the mark on her wrist. “She pulled me out all on her own. Father was furious, of course, but I just told him that it was my fault, he decided not to punish her for it.”

Dwale sniffed, feeling a little better. “That must have been pretty hard, I guess.”

Setsuna smiled and reached over to give his hand a squeeze.

“Is that how you got that scar?” he asked, perking up.

“Oh, this? No, this a powder burn from when my pistol went off in my pants.”

Dwale burst out laughing, remembering to cover his mouth when some of the nearby patrons began glaring at him.

As she sat back, Privet gave her a little tap with his foot. When she looked at him, he gave her an approving look that said ‘thank you for making him feel better.’

Setsuna giggled happily to herself, soaking in the praise from Privet like it was rain after a drought.

“Okay,” she said, hoping to get more of the same. “Since they don’t have pictures on the menu here, I’ll show you what the items are so you can pick. Privet, read them off for me.”

“Um, okay,” he said, taking the menu dubiously.

Energetically, Setsuna spun around in her chair, so she could see out across the dining hall.

“Lobster A l’orime.”

Finding the dish, she waved her hand, and a women at the far end yelped in fright as her dinner plate fell through a swirling black gate of mist that appeared underneath it. The dish reappeared in front of Dwale, falling up though the gate in front of him, before falling back though and coming to a rough landing back where it belonged, only slightly ruffled for the journey. The women’s husband fanned her to keep her from fainting.

Privet dropped his menu. “I don’t think this is a…”

“Keep going,” she bade, ready for the next one.

Privet sighed. “Squab terrine.”

Another plate disappeared, this time in the balcony seating. The mustachioed man leaned forward over the strange gate laying where his plate used to be, only to have his plate reappear and hit him square in the face.

“Oh, that one looked good,” Dwale mentioned.

“Sunchoke Veloute.”

A woman wearing a huge feathered hat screamed.

“Chilled oysters in gel
é
e.”

A man yelled, his toupeé falling off.

“Foie gras stuffed grouse.”

An entire table screamed and fell backwards in their chairs.

“Cilantro stuffed rabbit saddle.”

Setsuna felt a hand on her shoulder, which startled her. Her gates all snapped shut as she spun around, her green pigtails whipping out and smacking the owner, as he stood there, arms folded, a plate of rabbit saddle dumped over his head. Their waiter stood to one side, the cloakman with a black eye on the other.

The owner tossed her gold coins onto the table contemptuously. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave, madam.”

“Why? I’ve got money.”

She slid her finger through the air, and it opened up like a zipper. Reaching inside, she withdrew a handful of gemstones and jingled them around in her hand, like she was holding out a treat for a dog. “See? Shiny shiny.”

“Money is irrelevant, madam.”

She closed her hand. “Then why do you charge so much?”

“Meeriuge Effus’ettu has a reputation to uphold, and you are startling the other guests.”

“What? I sent their food back to them.”

A bit of eggplant fell off of the owner’s nose.

“Well, except that one.”

“Setsuna held her ground. “I am here for a romantic couple’s cozette with my fiancé, and I’m not going anywhere until I get it.”

“Will you please stop calling me that?” Privet insisted.

Dwale withered as he looked around. Every eye in the room was looking at them hatefully. “This feels like back home.”

The owner picked a piece of confit from his tuxedo. “Madam, if you will not cooperate, then I shall be forced to call the constabulary.”

Privet covered his face. “This is the third place we’ve been kicked out of.”

Seeing his frustration, Setsuna relented. “All right, all right, we’ll leave.”

Privet looked up. “What, really?”

Setsuna closed her eyes. “I can be reasonable.”

The owner nodded. “That is wise.”

Defiantly, Setsuna scooted her chair back to get up, but it collided with the tip of the owner’s shiny shoes.

“May I have a little more room please?” she asked.

“Of course, madam.”

The owner took a full step back, then found himself standing atop a dry arid mesa, desert dunes rising up around him as far as the eye could see.

“Wha…what is this?!”

Back in the restaurant, Setsuna laughed as she waved her hand, snapping shut the gate the owner had just stepped through.

Dozens of people called for their checks. A few people threw some money on the table and made for the exit.

“Where did he go?” The waiter asked worriedly.

Setsuna’s green eyes narrowed. “You want to join him, or do you want to bring me the desserts I ordered?”

The waiter looked around, sweat dripping down his face.

“I’ll start with your cheesecake.”

She winked. “Good man.”

As the waiter scrambled off, Setsuna took a deep gulp of wine from the flute, very pleased with herself. When she finished, she found Privet and Dwale staring at her.

“What? They were going to throw us out.”

“Where did you send him?” Privet asked.

Setsuna set her flute down and then grabbed the bottle itself out of the chiller. “Don’t worry, he’ll be fine…”

She threw her head back and took a long draught.

“…probably.”

“Probably?” Privet repeated, his jaw hanging open.

Dwale covered his mouth as he began chuckling. The chuckling grew into laughter, which them grew into a deep belly laugh. Finally he laughed so hard he had to wrap his arms around his sore sides.

It was such a clear, honest laugh, Privet and Setsuna could not help but join in. All three of them laughed, even as their terrified waiter returned with armfuls of desserts, assuring them that any they did not approve of would be on the house.

Dwale took a bite of Velours D’Abricot and found it to be the greatest thing he had ever tasted. Setsuna like the Figue En Robe, but found it didn’t really shine unless she mixed it in with the Borneo Vacherin, the combination of which she pronounced as being fit for Ramma herself. Privet contented himself with a Mirabell mint sorbet, as he watched Setsuna, a curious little smile on his lips.

Setsuna and I got off on the wrong foot, so much so that I really didn’t see it until just this moment. She’s fun, she’s headstrong, she radiates confidence, she’s generous, she’s loud. She acknowledges no one’s rules except her own. She insists on having fun at all times. She’s so full of life it boils over into everything she does. She’s everything Athel used to be, everything that attracted me to her, everything that she lost.

Privet held up his fork, but did not take a bite.
I feel like I could really fall for this person. But am I attracted to Setsuna, or am I just attracted to how much she reminds me of Athel?

“Oh, I don’t think I have ever laughed that hard in my life,” Dwale mentioned once he had finally calmed himself down. He took a second to wipe a tear from the corner of his eye. My matron would have had a fit if she saw me laughing like that.”

Setsuna leaned back and kicked her feet up onto the table, a hole in her stockings allowing her painted big toe to poke through. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that. You’re a free man, now.”

Dwale took another bite and stared off out the window. The sounds of patrons fleeing the restaurant had mostly died down by now.

“Free.” He said the word as if rolling it about, trying to decide what it meant.

Setsuna snapped her fingers and a wine bottle from an abandoned table dropped down a portal and exited into her waiting hand. “You do know the word, right?”

“Yes, of course, it’s just that…I’ve spent my whole life in service of the woman who owned me. Now that I am free, I…I can’t actually think of what I would want to do with my time.”

Privet finally spoke up and gave him a strong pat on the shoulder. “You spend it with the people who care for you.”

“AYE!” Setsuna cheered, holding the bottle up over her head, spilling some. “A toast to that!”

“Aye, a toast,” Privet agreed, holding up his glass.

Setsuna stood up, getting a little tipsy. “To people you spend time with because yadda yadda!”

“To yadda yadda!” Privet and Dwale cheered.

They tapped their glasses together just as the waiter arrived with their meal.

As the others tore into their meals, Privet found his mind and heart filling with questions. Despite convincing himself that this trip was going to be miserable, he really was having a splendidly good time. The last time he could recall having this much fun was back when he and Athel used to spar together. The old Athel, the one that loved him, the one he was so attracted to he could barely stand it, but who he rejected out of fear. Now, that girl was gone, perhaps forever, and all Privet could do was regret over what might have been.

Privet looked up and watched as Setsuna tried to teach Dwale how to sing a salty old pirate song. Watching the two of them sway back and forth, singing so loud in Senndaisian that the few people left in the restaurant plugged their ears, he could not help but smile.

And again, here I am, with a beautiful vibrant young woman offering her heart to me, and I am hesitating. Is this to be the story of my life? To make the same mistakes over and over again? Do I learn nothing? Am I to make the same blunder with Setsuna that I made with Athel? Am I to decline her offer for love and companionship until it is too late? By the seas, what is wrong with me? How broken inside do I have to be to not instantly accept her offer?

Privet took another bite, but tasted nothing.

How many young men go through their whole lives and never once have the chance I have, and here I am, threatening to screw up my second chance after it is given to me. I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve any of this. I should be thanking the gods from the bottom of my heart, not moping about in indecision.