"Dinner will be served soon."
Lot sat at the dining table, watching Morgan—seated to his left—with an expectant expression.
In this era, noble banquets typically featured long tables.
But tonight, only Lot and Morgan would be dining together.
That's more than enough.
[At least now there's two of us. I won't be eating alone anymore.]
Morgan, who had been quietly observing, caught this thought.
She glanced at him in surprise.
This dog… felt lonely?
Her eyes drifted to the table.
Well, it makes sense.
Before this, he always ate here by himself.
No wonder he felt isolated.
But it's fine now. From today onward, I'll be here with you.
Together, we'll rule all of Britain—glory and victory will follow us.
And… we'll have many children. You'll never be lonely again.
Her gaze lingered on Lot's face.
Our children will definitely be beautiful.
A faint blush crept onto her cheeks.
Noticing her expression, Lot raised an eyebrow.
Why are you looking at me like I'm some pitiful creature?
What's there to pity?
Shouldn't I be the one pitying you when you see the food and realize how provincial you've been?
Why does this feel backwards?
And why are you blushing now?
People will think I drugged you!
Lot was utterly baffled.
But before he could dwell on it, the maids arrived with their dinner, instantly lifting his mood.
"Morgan, try these."
The table was set with classic Chinese dishes—
Roast duck.
Braised pork balls.
Sweet and sour pork ribs.
In his past life, Lot had been a shut-in, but he'd learned to cook because he hated takeout. After suffering through days of British cuisine in this era, he'd finally snapped.
Fine, I'll do it myself.
Later, he'd even fished out a Chinese cookbook—
Thick enough that its table of contents alone dwarfed British recipes!
In this era, chefs didn't dare run away, so Lot had taught them everything he knew.
Now, his castle's cooks were surprisingly skilled.
They could whip up decent Chinese dishes—like the spread before them.
Morgan stared at the unfamiliar food.
She picked up the chopsticks.
Never seen these dishes… or these utensils.
Is this Orkney's local cuisine?
But I've never heard of Orkney having famous food!
Hmm…
Well, it looks appetizing.
Probably tastes good too.
She tentatively picked up a piece of sweet and sour pork rib and took a bite.
Sweet and tangy flavors exploded in her mouth.
Delicious.
She nearly smiled—
Then she heard Lot's thoughts.
[She ate it! Now, let's see her lose herself in joy.]
[Hehe, watching the 'queenly' Morgan make such an expression—can't wait!]
Queenly?
I will be queen!
This dog—
Has no sense of phrasing!
Talking like this, you'll die friendless!
And what are you expecting?
For me to swoon over food?
Hah! Never.
You won't see that look from me.
"Mm. It's… acceptable."
Morgan replied flatly.
She took another small, elegant bite, then deliberately switched to a vegetable dish.
I'll show you this food is just average.
No different from anything else.
Even though it was delicious.
She forced her focus away.
If the meat dishes are good, surely the vegetables won't be as impressive.
Smart thinking.
But the moment the stir-fried greens touched her tongue—
A crisp, fresh crunch echoed in her mouth.
In this era, no one—not even in China—had such cooking techniques.
Morgan's composure wavered.
But remembering Lot's smug thoughts, she refused to yield.
Ah—
One side of me wants to savor this.
The other is fighting to stay stoic.
This is torture.
Noticing her strained expression, Lot frowned.
"What's wrong? Does it not taste good?"
"No. It's fine."
Morgan kept her voice neutral.
"Then why do you look like—"
"It's unimportant."
She maintained perfect calm, sampling every dish in small, measured bites.
When she finished, she stood gracefully.
"I'm done. The journey tired me out—I'll retire early."
"Oh… Alright. I'll have the maids escort you."
Lot watched her go, puzzled.
Something's off… but I can't place it.
Morgan followed the maid to her chambers—
But inside, her heart bled.
I barely got to enjoy any of it!
If I'd eaten freely, that horndog would've looked down on me.
No way!
I'll endure today. There's plenty of time.
Soon, I'll be this castle's mistress—I can eat those dishes whenever I want.
Then I'll indulge properly.
Meanwhile, Lot stared at her retreating figure, then picked up his chopsticks.
He tried a piece of pork.
"…Tastes the same as always?"
He muttered, utterly confused.