Episode 114 Coffee Break
Coffee Break
For Arisanna. He’s doing this for Arisanna.
As they follow the King and Queen of Nunia down the street with guards surrounding them, Cerian clings to Arisanna’s hand, and she leans her head against his shoulder.
At least her mother walks ahead of them and not behind.
How far is it to this restaurant? They seem to be traversing the entire town of Feressa.
While people gawk at them.
“We’re almost there,” Arisanna says softly. “Would you like me to order for you?”
He gulps at the thought of trying to decipher a Nunian menu while Queen Yalisa chatters across the table.
“Please,” he murmurs.
“Here it is,” the queen announces, and they stop outside a dining establishment similar to the one they visited on their way to Lostariel after the binding ceremony. Why they couldn’t eat at that one is beyond him. It’s only a few doors down from the hotel.
Two of King Gerault’s guards enter, examining the room before beckoning the royal family to follow as a well-dressed man gestures to a large corner table with a wraparound bench. They must have sent word to have the table reserved for the king and queen.
“Why don’t you slide in first?” King Gerault says to Cerian with a smile. “My knees would be grateful.”
With a nod, Cerian follows Arisanna as she moves into the corner, and her father takes his place beside Cerian. At least Arisanna’s mother didn’t wish to sit beside him. She seems happy to chatter from Arisanna’s other side.
Trapped. That’s what they are now. With King Gerault on one side and Queen Yalisa on the other, there’s no way out.
“I’m right here,” Arisanna whispers in his ear.
She must sense his heart racing.
Of course she does.
It’s fine. He’s fine.
Perhaps if he thinks it enough times, he’ll believe it.
Pushing thoughts of being trapped from his mind as best as he can, Cerian takes in their surroundings.
It’s quiet, with only a few other patrons filling nearby tables. They must have missed the breakfast rush.
Thank the fates for that.
Two guards remain on the street while others occupy the restaurant. Arisanna barely seems to notice them.
Father’s elite warrior band follows him many places, but not like this. And not every moment of the day.
Not that Father needs them always at his side with his powerful magic. Perhaps the guards are more comforting to humans with no magic to protect themselves.
They just feel smothering to Cerian.
The well-dressed man sets menus in front of them before bowing and leaving them to make their choices.
Cerian looks at the letters swimming on the page. He needs to learn to read Nunian. He should have learned when his tutors tried to teach him. It would have made his life easier now.
Which is what Father tried to tell him.
Arisanna starts describing the offerings on the menu as if she’s thinking out loud, trying to decide what she wants. It only takes Cerian a few moments to realize she’s doing it for his benefit.
When she describes a meal of fried eggs and sausage with a biscuit and a side of apple slices, he squeezes her hand. That sounds like something he might be able to force down.
Queen Yalisa seems happy to converse with Arisanna about the menu, and Cerian sits quietly, staring at the jumbled letters in front of him, hoping no one will try to draw him into a conversation.
Soon, the well-dressed man returns and offers all the appropriate niceties to the royal family of Nunia, which includes Cerian now.
It’s a strange thought. He’s a Prince of Nunia now, isn’t he?
“What can I get you, Your Highness?” the man asks Cerian after Arisanna’s parents make their requests.
Cerian glances at Arisanna and clears his throat. “Perhaps my wife would like to order first.”
“Of course.” The man turns to Arisanna. “Your Highness?”
She rattles off the meal Cerian chose, ordering it for herself, and he forces himself not to gape at her.
She’s doing that for him. So no one will know he can’t read Nunian.
She didn’t have to do that, but he loves her for it.
“I’ll have the same,” Cerian says quietly to the man, who nods.
“Of course, Your Highness. I’ll be back with your drinks soon.”
What drink did Cerian order? What did Arisanna order? He missed that part.
Not that it matters. He’ll manage.
When the man returns with a mug full of steaming dark liquid, Cerian stares at it. It doesn’t smell like tea.
It smells bitter.
The man also sets a glass of translucent amber liquid in front of Cerian. That looks like apple cider.
Knowing Arisanna, it probably is. She’d definitely order apple cider for him.
“Do you drink coffee in Lostariel?” Queen Yalisa asks as she adds other things to her mug of the bitter black liquid.
Cerian mouths the word. Coffee. It sounds vaguely familiar. Something Elowyn or Tharios told him about, probably.
“I have never experienced this...coffee.” He pushes out the words.
“They usually serve tea with breakfast in Lostariel,” Arisanna says. She adds sugar to her coffee and a bit of what appears to be milk or cream.
He’s still growing used to such things. Animals are not farmed in Lostariel as they are in Nunia. Their milks and creams are all plant-based back home.
It doesn’t taste the same.
King Gerault lifts his mug to his lips without adding anything. Perhaps Cerian should try it like that.
He reaches for his own coffee and takes a small sip as Arisanna watches.
It tastes as bitter as it smells.
Without speaking, he returns it to the table and looks down at it.
“Here. Try it like this.” Arisanna offers him her cup, and he only hesitates for a moment. Other than the flaming sweet bread, they’ve never shared food or drink, though Viala often shoves her fork toward Tharios with things for him to try, and he usually humors her.
There’s no reason Cerian can’t do the same.
He takes the offered cup and sips from it. Whistling wind, that’s sweet. How much sugar did she add?
“Elowyn would like your version of coffee,” Cerian says as he hands it back.
Arisanna laughs. “Too sweet?”
“A bit.”
“Arisanna always adds excessive lumps of sugar to her coffee,” Queen Yalisa says with an affectionate laugh.
King Gerault smiles as he takes another sip of his bitter liquid. “I’m not convinced she likes the coffee part at all.”
“I do. I just prefer it drowned in cream with plenty of sugar.”
“I didn’t realize you were so fond of sweets.” Cerian finds her hand under the table again. She let go to fix her coffee earlier.
She shrugs. “It depends on the sweets.”
“Perhaps try it with one lump of sugar,” Queen Yalisa suggests, and Cerian takes a slow breath before nodding.
It wouldn’t hurt to try. He adds a small spoonful of the white granules to his mug and stirs it well, attempting not to dwell on the fact that everyone is watching him.
“Better?” Arisanna asks after Cerian takes a sip and then another.
“It’s drinkable now. Thank you.”
Their food is soon delivered, and Cerian does his best to eat, though his stomach is still knotted.
Arisanna eats her meal without complaint. It seems unlikely that she would have chosen that for herself, and his heart warms as he watches her from the corner of his eye. She looks happy, even as she converses with her mother.
They all look happy.
Images of sharing this meal with Rominy and Elowyn flit through his head. It’s a pleasant thought in a surprising way.
Suddenly, the idea of visiting Nunia with Arisanna in the future feels a little less overwhelming. A little more bearable. Especially if being with her family makes her smile the way she does now as her father teases her about her sugary coffee again.
Cerian downs a bite of a biscuit and follows it with a sip of his coffee.
He’ll bring her to Nunia as often as she wants, even if it terrifies him.
And as soon as he can, he’ll learn to read Nunian.
“Does that mean I’ve won?” Elowyn asks as she looks at the game board in front of them.
“It appears so.” Rominy smiles as her eyes light up. How she expects him to focus on a game when she’s sitting there with only a blanket barely wrapped around her is beyond him.
Not that he’s complaining.
He’s about to say something else when the island and treehouse around them fade, and he searches Elowyn’s eyes. Is she waking this time? She bites her lip and smiles, and relief fills him.
When he blinks open his eyes in the hotel, Elowyn stirs on the bed beside him. This is how it should be.
“Tharios?” she says softly.
Tharios steps toward them from across the room. “Welcome back. How are you feeling?”
“A little dizzy. My arm feels...heavy.”
“That’s normal. The sensation should be returning, and you’ll be able to use it again soon. It might be uncomfortable while my magic wears off.”
“So she’s better?” Rominy asks.
“She will be. You need to take it slow, though, El. I mean it. If you don’t listen to me this time, I will make you sleep to give your body more time to recover.”
Horror fills Elowyn’s eyes. “I’m listening.”
“Good.”
“Rominy told me about Mother.”
Tharios turns his gaze to Rominy. “He did, did he?”
There’s a lot of Queen Nestraya in Tharios’s eyes as he looks at Rominy. It’s a bit unnerving.
But then Tharios sighs. “I suppose you would have noticed their absence.”
“How is she?” Elowyn starts to sit up, and Tharios crosses his arms as he stares down at her.
Stars above. He really does have a look of their mother about him.
Elowyn lies back again, and Tharios relaxes as he checks her arm.
“Are you asking me to spy on them?” The hint of a smile fills his eyes now, and Elowyn smiles in return.
“Perhaps.”
“Fine, but if I get caught, I am blaming you.” Tharios straightens and closes his eyes for a moment. He must be using his life magic to sense his parents.
Which is both fascinating and horrifying.
“She’s not using her magic,” Tharios says. “Thank the fates. And it’s stronger today. Still injured but perhaps healing. And growing stronger by the second.” Tharios opens his eyes and shakes his head as he looks at Elowyn. “The things I do for you.”
“Thank you,” she says softly.
“You’re welcome. Now, I want you to focus on getting yourself stronger, all right? Perhaps you can try keeping down something more than water.”
Before Elowyn can nod, the door opens, and Cerian steps inside, carrying a coffee mug. Does he drink coffee? Rominy shivers at the thought.
“Welcome back,” Tharios says with a grin. “I hope that’s for me.”
Cerian glares at him. “It’s not for you. It’s for Elowyn. If she’s allowed—”
Tharios looks thoughtful for a moment before shrugging. “A few sips. That’s it, El. Until we see how it settles.”
Pure delight fills Elowyn’s face as Rominy helps her sit up against a mound of pillows. At least his own dizziness passed quickly this time.
“It’s not as hot as it was, but I can heat it if you wish.” Cerian lowers himself to the bed at Elowyn’s side. “It’s a long walk from the restaurant Arisanna’s mother prefers.”
“I’m pretty sure they make coffee here at the hotel, Cer,” Tharios says, and Cerian frowns.
“I hadn’t considered that.”
“Coffee?” Elowyn’s whole face lights up. “You brought me coffee? I’ve always wanted to experience coffee.”
Rominy represses another shudder, and Arisanna laughs from the foot of the bed. “Rominy isn’t a fan.”
“You might like it, though,” Rominy says as he tries not to smile.
“Arisanna drowned it in cream and sugar for you.” Cerian holds the cup toward Elowyn. “I’m not convinced her methods improve it, but it seemed like something you’d enjoy.”
Elowyn breathes in deeply and closes her eyes. “That smells delightful.”
“I’m glad you think so,” Rominy mutters.
“Tiny sips,” Tharios says, and with Cerian’s help, Elowyn takes a sip of the vile liquid.
Rominy just shakes his head and holds back a sigh.
She’s going to love it.