The meal turned out beautifully.
They ate together by the hearth, the low table between them laden with small portions of each dish they'd prepared. There was crispy boar belly nestled beside tender cabbage and potatoes that had fried in rendered fat, root vegetables caramelized to glassy sweetness on one side and fork-tender on the other, flaky cheese and onion tarts still warm from the coals, perfectly roasted pheasant with its aromatic stuffing of herbs, berries and crushed nuts, and finally the apple tarte with its glossy caramel coating catching the firelight like amber.
Nyrielle sampled only a few bites of each dish, leaving most of the meal for Ashlynn, but the praise she offered was genuine and generous.
