Page 14 of Dragons & Dumplings
I tilted my head to the side. “How so?”
“We are overly sensitive to flavor and texture because food is so scarce in the cold, northern regions. And when you grow up on a steady diet of the same five things, anything different is suddenly strange and uncomfortable.”
“I see.” I tapped my fingers against the table. “No wonder our fleets think the other’s food preferences make no sense.”
Yuri’s icy eyes dropped to the soup. He stirred it listlessly, his thoughts clearly somewhere else.
“So, what was it like growing up in the snow and ice?” I asked, partially to break the awkward silence.
“Cold.” He chuckled mirthlessly. “But that’s what makes heat all the more appealing.”
His eyes found mine, and I found myself wondering if the heat he was referring to was just from the food. The memory of flying through the gentle snowfall together, wingtips brushing, came to the forefront of my mind. And the way he had calmed me down with a kiss before that…
I felt my temperature rising as my pointed ears grew warm. From the look in Yuri’s eyes, I started to wonder if his thoughts had gone in the same direction as mine. When his hand inched across the table to cover mine, and his cool magic settled over me, I no longer had to wonder.
I must be losing my mind, to be making eyes at an ice dragon. But he stirred something in me that no one else ever had.
But if my parents ever found out…
“Mei! Could I get some more tea over here?”
I startled in surprise, my blush deepening as I slipped my hand from his and hastily rose. “Coming right up!” I called, before turning to Yuri and muttering, “Duty calls.”
Yuri’s slight smile was sympathetic. “It seems I’ve been keeping you from your work. I should probably get back to mine, anyways.”
“Right—of course.” I flashed him a smile before scurrying off to the kitchen.
Pyra was hard at work, cooking a magnificent Flaming Filet for one of my tables. I set about making a fresh cup of tea for the pair of elves, feeling a little guilty for neglecting my other tables while I was talking with Yuri.
“Have you given some thought to the main dish we’re going to make for the Harvest Feast?” Pyra asked over her shoulder.
I grimaced. I had done everything I could last night to put it out of my mind completely. “I have a few ideas, but none of them are grand enough for the Feast. Why, did you have something in mind?”
I tried not to sound too hopeful or desperate. I knew it wasmyresponsibility to handle everything, but if Pyra had some good suggestions…then I was all ears.
“Nothing in particular. But we could always do one that your mom came up with a few years ago—there’s no law that says we have to come up with something new every single year.” Pyra shrugged.
I sighed dejectedly. “No, that’s alright. Unveiling a new dish is tradition—and I’m not about to be the one who breaks it.”
My parents were nothing if not sticklers for the rules. Fire drakes had an extra stubborn streak.
“I have faith in you—I’m sure you’ll think of something. And who knows, if a decent number of people like it, we could even add it to the menu!” Pyra gave me a fiery thumbs up.
“I appreciate the vote of confidence.” That would make a grand total of one.
There was still plenty of time before the Feast. Worst case scenario, so long as I ordered more ingredients than I thought I’d need, I could always whip something up from scratch or remake a previous year’s dish if it came to that.
“Here’s the filet,” Pyra said as she handed me the plate, which clinked softly against my ruby scales. “Now, make sure to get a good tip.”
“Aye-aye, captain.” I saluted Pyra with a smile before turning to exit the kitchen with the plate and the tea. If the fire sylph didn’t get a cut of my tips, I had a feeling she wouldn’t be quite so enthusiastic.
After dropping off both items, I went around the diner, checking on each table. I felt a little guilty for spending so much time with Yuri earlier, but fortunately, most of our lunchtime customers were of the older, more laid-back variety, so none of them had even noticed my absence. Nalini was coming in later this afternoon, since it was the dinner rush that usually necessitated having two waitresses—except, of course, for weekend brunch.
Though while I was bringing out a drink refill, I saw a flash of white from the corner of my eye. I turned, and caught sight of a tall man with snow-white hair as he walked past the diner outside. Was there another traveller in Willowmere with hair as white as Yuri’s?
No, it must have been the sun playing tricks on me.
After most of my tables had settled their bills, instead of murmuring voices, it was the sound of typing that filled the air—along with the retro music, of course. I found myself gravitating towards Yuri again, his snow-white hair like a beacon.
