96 – Reservation

Once Isabella and Saffra were ready, Vivi warped their party of three to an anchor set a quarter mile outside of Sundermere, the capital city of the Eastern Kingdom.

“I don’t actually know where the Alabaster Rose is,” Vivi admitted to the two girls, and Isabella responded with a blink of surprise and Saffra with a nonchalant expression—the catgirl was definitely more accustomed to Vivi’s… lack of planning, as she would generously call it. “So we’re going to have to ask around.”

After flying down into the town square and finding a well-meaning-looking older woman, she did just that. Unlike Malach’s hole-in-the-wall shop, the Alabaster Rose was not just city-famous but world-famous; everyone in Sundermere knew its name and where it was. Getting directions was easy. Though the older woman seemed surprised by the question and studied Vivi curiously for it. Probably because asking for directions implied she intended to visit, which thus made her someone of importance.

Since she was being more liberal with her magic, she cast [Invisibility] and [Fly] on the three of them and quickly hunted down the restaurant by soaring over the dense crowds on the streets. Sundermere was not quite as populated and sprawling as Meridian, but the two capital cities were in the same ballpark, meaning walking normally would’ve taken a while.

When she found her target, she set down on the street. A sudden wariness came over her at what she saw. Truth be told, she’d assumed that Petra’s restaurant would be meant for adventurers—something resembling a cozy inn or a guildhall perhaps. What she found was nothing of the sort.

The Alabaster Rose—as maybe Vivi could have deduced from its name alone—was an elegant building constructed entirely of smooth marble and glass, with well-tended greenery crawling up its walls. Two pillars held up the overhang of the restaurant entrance, which itself was situated at the intersection of pristine cobblestone streets. A stream of carriages was depositing individuals wearing what was at first glance noble’s dress, and staff in white livery were receiving those nobles in quantity. It appeared to be a busy evening.

Thus, Vivi’s previous notion was dispelled in an instant: Petra’s restaurant was clearly not meant for adventurers. The average patron of this establishment was from the upper crust of society.

She’d known it would at least be a place mithrils and higher congregated, not commoners, but she hadn’t expected that most individuals would be nobility. Her enthusiasm for the upcoming event waned considerably. She’d dealt with the upper class too much as of late. She hadn’t even particularly enjoyed the Convoy’s Lounge, and the aura of elegance the Alabaster Rose exuded was several steps up from that.

She was in a little too deep to be canceling plans, though, and no matter if the restaurant’s aesthetic fit her preferences, she wanted to see what Petra had been up to over the past century. This establishment was her life’s work.

Mustering up her flagging eagerness—and with a rising trepidation over the fact that procuring a table might turn out to be harder than she’d assumed—she led Isabella and Saffra to the overhang. The two girls gawked around, Isabella subtly and Saffra not so much. Only Isabella looked like she might belong here, with her fine navy blue dress, refined steps, and perfect posture. One look at Vivi and Saffra, on the other hand, and people could tell they obviously didn’t. Perhaps Vivi should have put on something a little classier than her plain black robes.

A man wearing a white uniform with a rose tucked into his pocket met them, his face not betraying an ounce of suspicion or doubt. He greeted them with the same level of hospitality everyone else was receiving.

“Good evening, miss. You have a reservation with us, I presume?”

She’d at least known to expect this much. Reservations would’ve been the norm even if the Alabaster Rose hadn’t been a fine-dining location. The ‘most respected restaurant in the human kingdoms’ would be booked out for weeks in advance, if not months, no matter who it catered to.

Thanks to her stats, she could slow down her thoughts to where a second stretched into minutes. That ability was proving invaluable for preserving her reputation as ‘the Sorceress.’ Because if she hadn’t had so much subjective time to decide on how to respond, she definitely would’ve made a fool of herself.

“I don’t,” she replied coolly. “I haven’t been in the human kingdoms for many decades. I heard this establishment was worth visiting, but don’t have a reservation. I’m willing to pay for the trouble—for a table with seating for five, please. As private as possible.”

Rather than eyeing her dubiously or even outright dismissing her, the middle-aged man considered her with a thoughtful look. A location this important was probably accustomed to hosting unexpected guests of potentially very high status. Other Titled had surely shown up unannounced before.

“Of course.” The man smiled politely. “Though I’m afraid it is rather difficult to find an opening without a reservation. This evening is especially busy. Might I ask who I am speaking to, miss?”

Ah. She should’ve opened with that.

Obviously, she wasn’t going to announce herself as the Sorceress. Having to deal with the High King and other various polities had exhausted her as much as she’d known it would. If anything, she’d grown less fond of the idea of wearing her name and face around publicly. Any time she could get away with masquerading as a normal person, she would.

And in the instances she couldn’t get away with being a normal person, an orichalcum-rank mage would suffice. That still drew unwanted attention, but a far more tolerable amount.

Though, would Nysari’s identity suffice? The Alabaster Rose seemed pretty important, and orichalcums weren’t that rare on a global scale.

Might as well try.

“Nysari Keresi,” she said. “First Blood. Mage of the tenth elevation.” She gestured at Saffra. “This is my apprentice, and this is”—she paused as she wondered what to call Isabella—“a ward of mine.”

She could tell by the unfazed expression on the man’s face that it wouldn’t be enough. Nysari was neither Titled nor the head of her family—and was foreign nobility, not local, though she wasn’t sure whether that helped or hurt. If the restaurant did have some sort of emergency table reserved for edge cases like her, it would surely be meant for individuals of true importance. A surprise visit from royalty, a Titled, or a Grandmaster craftsman as the minimum example.

Well. Maybe she could put that ridiculous wealth of hers to use? To save herself from an awkward situation?

Mentally accessing her inventory, she paused as she realized she had no clue how much of a bribe would be appropriate. Over the past dozen or so days she’d been here, she’d familiarized herself somewhat with social norms, but only somewhat.

What was a good reference? She had paid Rhek Verontell, Master Leatherworker, just shy of a single starmetal piece to craft Saffra’s adventuring gear. And Rafael had chosen that price, so it was a reliable benchmark. But that had been a standard commission—bribing her way into a famous restaurant running at full capacity would call for more, right? Especially since Rhek had only been a Master craftsman. Petra was a Grandmaster, if not a Legendary cook, and a world-famous one thanks to being from Vanguard. Vivi also didn’t want to accidentally offer too low; always better to overshoot than undershoot when using money to influence someone, especially when the loss of the coin wouldn’t affect her in the slightest.

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Her stats allowed for longer deliberation than most, but not infinite. She solidified her decision and withdrew two pieces of starmetal. The white-blue otherworldly metal glinted in the light.

“I understand that my arrival is unexpected. But I would appreciate your cooperation in this matter,” she told the staff member.

The man’s face went blank. Vivi understood immediately that she’d misjudged the situation. Was it because she’d proposed a bribe at all, or because she’d offered too little or too much? He stared at the coins, breaking the until-then-perfect hospitality he’d been showing. Maybe because of how well composed he’d been even when dealing with foreign demonic nobility, she realized quite how big her blunder was.

Disbelief began creeping onto his face as the seconds agonizingly stretched on, which answered her question: the bribe itself wasn’t out of hand. But she’d overshot the appropriate amount rather significantly.

Yet her logic made sense, didn’t it?

…she supposed she’d paid handsomely for the crafting commission, since it had been a rush job. One that had taken a Master Craftsman’s entire evening, not a single course of dishes that Petra herself might not even be attending to personally. She probably had a whole kitchen staff handling most of the work.

Two starmetal even put a tiny dent in her own bank account, not that her true wealth was remotely in coin.

Only after a full ten seconds of staring—an eternity to be holding two starmetal out as a bribe—did the white-uniformed man finally jerk back to awareness.

“O-of course, Lady… Nysari,” he struggled to say, trying for a smooth tone of voice but thoroughly failing. He accepted the two coins, gazing at them disbelievingly for yet another two seconds as if doubting the truth of his own eyes, before finally tucking them away. “I believe… we can find accommodations, yes. A party of five, you said?”

Vivi felt Isabella’s and Saffra’s eyes drilling into her. She purposefully didn’t glance at them to see their reactions; she was already mortified by what was happening.