Despite this being a medieval fantasy world, the service here feels surprisingly modern.
Every table is decorated with a small flower vase filled with delicate white-and-blue blossoms, adding a touch of elegance to the rustic wooden furnishings. The fresh flowers brighten the cozy dining hall, making the entire place feel warm and inviting rather than rough and worn.
It's beautiful.
Not that I know anything about flowers. I have absolutely no idea what they're called, but they look pretty, and that's good enough for me.
Beside the vase rests a neatly folded menu, waiting to be opened.
Curious, I pick it up.
The writing isn't English, nor is it any language I recognize.
Yet, just like with Eris's ID card, I can understand every single word without the slightest effort. The unfamiliar letters somehow carry their meaning directly into my mind, as naturally as if I'd been reading them my entire life.
Weird.
But incredibly convenient.
"Eris, this dinner combo sounds great! Three grilled pork skewers, green salad, and mashed potatoes. What do you think?"
I look up, expecting her opinion.
Instead, I'm met with silence.
"Erm... Eris?"
I follow her gaze.
"Oh."
She's not looking at the menu at all.
Instead, she's staring at the flower vase in the center of the table. Her blue eyes are narrowed, completely unblinking, as though every ounce of her concentration has been devoted to that poor, innocent vase.
Like she's locked in a life-or-death battle with it.
I blink in confusion.
What...?
Without the slightest warning, Eris suddenly reaches over, grabs the vase, and quietly slides it underneath the table until it's completely out of sight.
I simply stare, my brain taking a few seconds to catch up with what just happened.
After a long moment, I finally ask, "...Eris... do you not like flowers?"
She laughs softly and shakes her head.
"Nah, it's not that."
Then, wearing the straightest face imaginable, she says, "It's just... sometimes I get this overwhelming urge to knock things off tables."
"...What?"
"Apparently some of us cat Furrens have that problem." She grins shamelessly. "It runs in the family."
Ooooooh.
Everything suddenly clicks.
I can't help laughing.
Of course.
Eris isn't just a catgirl in appearance—she actually inherited cat instincts too. Some cats simply can't resist knocking random objects off tables for absolutely no reason.
It's incredibly annoying.
And somehow...
Ridiculously adorable.
I open my mouth, ready to tease her about it.
Then my eyes drift toward the wooden mug sitting beside me.
...
Oh no.
An overwhelming urge suddenly wells up inside me.
An irresistible force.
As though the mug itself is whispering into my mind.
Push me...
Come on...
Just one little push...
Before I even realize what's happening, my fingers twitch.
Tap.
The mug tips over.
CRASH!
The sharp sound rings throughout the dining hall, cutting through the lively chatter.
Every conversation stops.
Every head turns.
Every pair of eyes lands squarely on me.
...
Huh?
...
OH NO.
My soul immediately leaves my body.
Without hesitation, I snatch up the menu and hide behind it, wishing the floor would simply swallow me whole.
Thankfully, the mug was empty, so nothing spilled.
That doesn't make this any less embarrassing.
I can practically feel my face radiating enough heat to cook dinner.
Across from me, Eris bursts into laughter, clutching her stomach.
"Felicia, you're just like me!"
This is bad.
Really bad.
Does this mean I'm cursed now?
Am I destined to spend the rest of my life knocking mugs off tables?
How am I supposed to drink anything?!
"E-Eris..." I mutter from behind the menu, clinging to it like it's my last shred of dignity. "H-how do you stop yourself from knocking things over? Please... teach me!"
She hums thoughtfully, resting a finger against her chin.
"Well, it takes a lot of practice. But for beginners, the easiest way is to simply... not look at the thing."
"Oh!"
I nod enthusiastically.
That actually makes perfect sense.
Then Eris leans forward slightly.
Her blue eyes meet mine.
A gentle smile spreads across her face.
"And if you don't have anything else to look at..."
She pauses just long enough for my curiosity to get the better of me.
"...you can always look at me."
...
!!!
The world brightens.
Time freezes.
Badump.
Badump.
OOOOOOOOOOOOHHHH MY GOD.
Heat floods my cheeks so quickly that I'm genuinely surprised I don't faint on the spot.
Without thinking, I immediately duck behind the menu again, gripping it so tightly the edges crinkle beneath my fingers.
ERIS!
YOU IDIOT!
YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THINGS LIKE THAT!
My heart is going absolutely insane.
What is wrong with me?
Is this another side effect of becoming a girl?
Why am I getting flustered so easily?!
Fortunately, Eris seems completely oblivious to the emotional catastrophe she just caused.
"Oh, the waitress is here. Felicia, what would you like to eat?"
I cautiously peek over the top of the menu.
The moment our eyes almost meet...
I duck right back down.
"Y-you order first! I-I need a little more time!"
Eris simply shrugs.
"Alright. Lilly, I'll have the usual, please."
"Coming right up!" the waitress chirps cheerfully before jotting the order into a small notebook.
Meanwhile, I continue hiding behind the menu as though it's the strongest shield in existence.
"P-please give me another five minutes..." I mumble.
...
In the end, it takes me nearly ten whole minutes before I'm emotionally stable enough to order.
****
Catgirl Fun Fact #4
Some catgirls spend thousands of coins every year replacing broken mugs, flower vases, and other fragile decorations because they simply can't resist knocking them off tables.
The obvious solution would be to use sturdy wooden mugs instead.
Unfortunately, most catgirls insist that pretty ceramic mugs are worth breaking, so the cycle continues. They'd rather replace beautiful mugs than drink from ugly ones.