Breakfast was served on a balcony that overlooked the eastern peaks, where the morning light turned the floating waterfalls into rivers of fire.
The food was.….excessive. That was the only word for it. Platters of roasted meat and fresh fruit and pastries that flaked apart at the touch. Bowls of honey and cream. A whole fish, perfectly cooked, arranged on a bed of herbs that Bai Yue couldn't identify but smelled like summer.
Fēng Líng had relaxed somewhat. She was still perched on the edge of her seat, still talking too fast, still flushing at unexpected moments, but the terror had faded into something that looked almost like enjoyment.
"This is wonderful," she said, reaching for another pastry. "Who made it?"
"Kitchen dragons," Bai Yue said. "I think. They appeared with it. I didn't ask questions."
"The kitchen dragons are very talented. My mother says they're wasted on guests, but my mother says a lot of things."
"You don't agree with your mother much."
