Chapter 172: Arc 4, Act I, - 17: A Cold Morning’s Breakfast
An old, or rather, the latest gramophone model on the market, played a classical tune filled with violins and cellos throughout the dining room, echoing through multiple entryways in and out of the kitchen and cellar.
’The dining room’s on the second floor...’ Jotou pouted as she peered around.
Chandeliers hung across the entire length of the long, long table flanked by cushioned seats of brownish-golds. The crown moulding upon the ceilings twisted and danced with gold inlays.
Octagonal tile patterns in yellow hues and murals on the ceilings and walls—some depicting noblemen on horses and a painting of five dogs playing poker.
The food was at the ready, the scent of chocolates, milk teas and coffee polluted the air. The sweet pastries and savoury rice cakes, flatbreads, various spicy spreads and spiced meats only overwhelmed the previous aroma.
The symphony of fresh breakfast smells floated Fumeko off her feet, her mouth salivating for a bite; or several bites. Waiters and waitress in brown and purple uniforms waltzed in and out of the room.
They would bow or curtsy when a guest walks by and as the six of them entered, another guest turned around and walked towards them.
A long face, adorned with a top hat and wearing a blackish-green suit; grey hair and crow’s feet around his hazel eyes as he adjusted his metallic green monocle.
Perhaps what truly made him taller than most in the room were the lengthy and wide moose-like antlers on either side of his top hat.
As if those already did not bring enough attention, perfectly cut emeralds had been pierced into them, glittering under the yellow glow of chandeliers.
"Good morning your majesty and Lord Artevik; and to you all as well," an aged voice, much like fine wine. Pale-bronze skin—he spoke unhurried and with a polite smile.
"Good morning Count Khalim," both Daiyu and Feyan synced on accident. A scowling glare was not worn on either of their faces.