ASTRID paused after the first bite, eyebrows lifting slightly. The flavors were better than he'd expected—the scallop melted on his tongue, the sauce tangy but smooth. He hadn't thought Wulfric could pull this off.
He was about to compliment Wulfric when he noticed the other watching him expectantly, clearly waiting for praise. The words caught in his throat, and instead, Astrid offered his usual polite, practiced smile.
Wasn't the whole point of this to teach Wulfric a lesson? He couldn't cave so easily. At the very least, he should make him sweat for a minute or two.
"Did you like it, sir?" Wulfric asked.
Astrid cleared his throat. "It's... acceptable."
A flicker of disappointment crossed Wulfric's face. For a moment, Astrid almost caved—ready to shower him with praise. But then Wulfric's expression shifted, hardening into quiet determination, like he was steeling himself to try harder. So Astrid held back. He'd tell him his honest opinion after dinner.
