Lisa approached with a tray, glancing curiously at the row of guards but asking nothing. She set down the plate and spoke gently. “Sir, your pork knuckle rice.”2

“Hm.” Garawa grunted through his nose, tossed the newspaper to Niyan, and turned to the famed dish before him. He cut a small piece and tasted it.0

The springy, tender meat was excellent, soft enough to melt on the tongue, making his eyes brighten involuntarily.0

Although the New Alliance was a tiny nation, one or two settlements barely the size of his estates, he had to admit they excelled when it came to cooking.2

The only thing he disliked was the utensils. It was too elaborate. He preferred eating with his hands. Of course, it would have been even better if a young girl fed him by hand. Back in White Elephant City, he never lifted a finger when eating. Sadly, he had searched Dawn City and found no restaurant offering such service.1

When he looked at Lisa, who bowed and prepared to leave, Garawa suddenly narrowed...0