“Ah, what a pleasant man.” An elderly lady who had been seated at Cicely’s table was quick to begin conversation with the young man sitting next to her. “You know, most of the other lords of land don’t share quite as admirable an opinion of the current state of affairs. It would seem the only territory worth claiming to some are steadings and mines.”

“I quite agree, Your Ladyship.” Cicely knew this lady who decided to butt in—she’d introduced herself ever-so-genially as Lady Ichabod. “Strange, isn’t it, that just after a war, we must speak of [i]more[/i] war.”

“Mn, it is quite concerning.” The middle-aged man next to Lady Ichabod stretched his arm over the back of her chair, only for her to promptly shove it off. He pouted at her before turning his attention back to the table. “On one hand, the earl has secured his assets quite nicely, but on the other hand, territory like this is something any man—be he duke or baron—would be jealous over. A functional port, and on the more favorable Tarnock sea!”

The young man next to the elderly lady laughed. “True enough, but we should celebrate the moment, no? After all, it would seem the earl has been good enough to share the bounty of his port with us.”

Cicely gazed down at her their table as well, and she had to disagree: what lay before them wasn’t a bounty, but a holy platter of the finest seafood she’d ever laid eyes on. There was an elegant plate of cod baked with some crunchy, cheesy topping, and it lay on a fresh bed of carrots and fresh salad greens.  Next to that were long strips of salmon baked with pistachios and green beans roasted to perfection; then there was the white, steaming halibut with slices of exotic tangerines as it lay among more salad greens; dominating most of those dishes even then was the plate of still-hot crab legs, complete with lemon sauce with which to dip the delicate meat; but perhaps most irresistible were the lemon and spinach crusted fish fillets. Those were just the main dishes present to choose from, however.

Warm wheat bread, hot from the oven, honey and butter, wines said to have survived in the cellar during the occupation—there was no spared expense on the table. Cicely found herself staring in awe, and for a moment, her self-control was tested. She [i]had[/i] to try at least a little of everything, as she would probably never have the chance to again. In that moment, she forgot that her and the earl’s eyes had ever met. In fact, she forgot where she was entirely, focusing solely on the textures and tastes of the varying fish as they more or less melted in her mouth.

By the time she could force herself to stop eating, her stomach already felt like it might burst. She delicately dabbed at her lips with a napkin and glanced about the table again, finding that the group was still deep into conversation. They had only compliments to rain down on the food and the serving staff, and on top of those were even more favorable words on the earl’s fine tastes and excellent hospitality.

Cicely finally glanced back at the man’s direction. He did seem like the merry type, smiling and talking with his hands as much as he did his mouth. She decided she ought to forgive the annoyances he’d indirectly caused her—after all, hadn’t he provided the lovely gown and the fantastic dinner? It was kind of him to have considered someone like her a scholar, but she had to wonder: were all the guests just a show to enhance his social status, or did he actually plan to do something will all the brilliant minds in the room?