As if he thought of something, Christopher’s eyes flashed.
Within the Imperial Room on the second floor of The Serenade, there were no attendants, only an imposing middle-aged man along with an older man in a suit who appeared spry despite his head of white hair. As was evident from his careful sitting posture, the middle-aged man respected the older man quite a lot.
“Did none of the twenty-something bowls of risotto satisfy you, Mr. Moses?” Noah asked as he helped to refill Mr. Moses’ wine glass.
“It’s not that they didn’t satisfy me; it’s just…” As if he was recalling the risottos, Mr. Moses paused before continuing, “They smelled and tasted outstanding, but they’re just not what I remember! To be fair, though, I am being incredibly particular,” he chastised with self-awareness before adding, “But I’m an old man and I like remembering my past. All these years, I’ve tasted numerous delicacies but I can’t forget the bowl of risotto the villager invited me to have all those years ago. Even now, I can remember the taste. If I could have one more bowl of that risotto before I died, I would die happy.”