Despite the soaring prices, the crowd only grew. The allure of food once blessed by three queens—and rumored to be endorsed by the Flame Queen herself—was too irresistible.
Nobles began sending butlers to secure boxes of flame-fried dumplings and packs of shadow ramen. There were even formal petitions to pre-order meals for after the ceremony.
Julie, hair tied tight and brow beaded with sweat, yelled out, "Four deluxe combos for the Cloudhall Envoy!" while Sasha zipped through tables delivering plates with impossible grace.
Seraphina, decked in our new festival uniform—a stylized battle apron with gold trim—flirted, negotiated, and up-sold like a war general in silk. Noora was managing our runic queue system, adjusting time delays to optimize table flow. Even Eren had stopped complaining, focusing purely on grilling and portioning with a rare seriousness.
