I Became The Extra King With Seven Wives

Chapter 82: Eating at Helianth

The rich scent of roasted meat and herbs reached us before she did.

She placed the dishes down one after the other with visible pride.

The second plate held river trout, its skin crisped over the fire and dusted with fragrant green herbs, served with soft white beans cooked in cream and garlic. Beside it sat a round loaf of brown bread, still warm enough for steam to rise when she tore a piece to show its softness.

"Our cook’s pride," the waitress said happily. "Simmered for hours since early morning with red herbs and black pepper from the southern caravans."

"And for drink," the waitress continued, setting down sturdy mugs, "mulled ale with cinnamon bark and cloves, and watered sweet wine for the ladies."

"It is simple fare, my lord, but the best our house can offer."

At my words, her smile widened.

She gave a respectful bow before stepping away, though not too far, no doubt curious whether nobles such as us would approve of common tavern food.

Even Oliver, who had earlier claimed not to be hungry, stared a second too long at the venison stew.

"It seems this humble establishment has wounded your discipline, Oliver," I said.

"By glaring at it like a starving wolf?"

Across from me, Eleanor sat stiffly upon my lap, doing her very best not to move too much despite the awkwardness of her position. The scent of the warm food seemed to distract her a little, but not enough to make her forget where she was seated.

"You may relax, Eleanor," I said quietly near her ear. "You are not sitting upon a bed of nails."

"Y—Yes, Your Majesty."

The tavern had done better than expected. This was no crude roadside meal thrown together for passing merchants. There was care in it, and pride too. The sort of food made by people who did not have great wealth, but who still wished to offer warmth and comfort to weary travelers.

I tore a piece of bread and dipped it lightly into the venison stew before bringing it to Eleanor’s lips.

Her whole body gave the faintest jolt.

"You wished to see what I had in mind for our honeymoon," I said. "Surely being fed by your husband is not beyond expectation."

Mia looked down at her lap at once.

Eleanor’s face turned so red I was almost impressed, yet after a second of hesitation, she slowly parted her lips and accepted the bite.

"Well?" I asked.

"Then have some more."

"I know."

Still, she said nothing else, and I fed her another small bite, this time a piece of trout. She accepted it with visible embarrassment while trying not to meet anyone’s eyes.

Besides us, Mia finally reached for the stew, perhaps deciding that if Eleanor could endure sitting on my lap in public, then she herself could survive eating in silence.

I glanced at Leilah however who wasn’t even touching anything. She was wearing a mask and it seemed she wasn’t going to eat anything if she had to remove her mask. Regardless none of us forced or said anything.

As we began to eat, I let my gaze drift idly over the tavern.

My gaze lingered on them for only a second before moving away.

One of them had entered after us.

Interesting.

"They followed us in after all," I said casually.

Mia’s expression sharpened at once.

"Left corner, near the hearth?" He asked.

Eleanor went very still on my lap.

"Eat," I said calmly. "There is no need to look frightened. If they meant to strike, they would not choose a crowded tavern in broad daylight."

Fools might.

They felt patient.

Still, for the moment, I had no intention of ruining a decent meal.

"Come now," I said. "You should at least enjoy the tavern’s special before the day turns troublesome."

This woman was simply too cute.

Women with such pure, unfeigned innocence were exceedingly rare pearls back on Earth.

"I need some air," I said, preparing to rise. "The rest of you just continue to eat."

Her worry was entirely justified. If there were two suspicious men tracking us, this was certainly not the time for the King to take a solitary break, let alone split himself from the safety of his royal guards.

It was a small, rapid kiss, but it effectively silenced her completely. As I pulled back, her lips remained slightly parted in shock, a crimson hue instantly taking over her cheeks.

Thoroughly flustered, she nodded her head meekly. Looking down at the wooden floorboards in deep embarrassment, she stood up and slid out of the way to let me pass.

Before she could take another step, however, Oliver reached out and grasped her arm. Mia glanced back in surprise at her brother, who merely stared at her with a serious, knowing look in his eyes. He understood my intent perfectly.

"I require some water to wash my hands," I said politely.

I gave her a brief nod and walked toward it, stepping out into the back alley.

I turned the small rusted valve, letting the cool water run over my hands. Gathering the water in my palms, I splashed it generously over my face. The slight chill of the water was a nice contrast to the stifling heat of the sun, and I let out a quiet sigh.

Once I was done, I drank a few refreshing handfuls of water. However, instead of immediately turning back toward the safety of the tavern, I began to walk in the opposite direction.

I walked until I reached a narrow bottleneck between two tall stone buildings. Here, the loud, cheerful chatter of the main streets could still be heard echoing off the walls, perfectly masking any sounds of a struggle, yet the alley itself was entirely empty and hidden from public view.

I stopped abruptly. Turning around, I let out a disappointed sigh.