Dinner was surprisingly pleasant this time around. The atmosphere at the table felt lighter and more relaxed—a stark contrast to two nights ago.
Ephyra was relieved to see that Lyle appeared fine, showing no signs of restlessness or pain. She was quietly pleased, too, that it was just the two of them in here, sharing this calm, warm moment.
The restaurant had been entirely cleared out and reserved for them. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the glittering city skyline, and the warm lighting from the chandeliers overhead gave the space a soft, intimate glow. The clinking of silverware and quiet background music blended into a comforting ambience.
A server placed down two covered plates before lifting the lids to reveal perfectly seared duck breast in a red wine reduction, truffle risotto, and honey-glazed carrots arranged like edible artwork. Ephyra's eyes lingered on the plate a moment longer than necessary, partly impressed and partly stalling.
