After Alyssara's dance—which frankly felt more like a high-level psychological attack than a performance—we were served dinner.
Five courses. Each meticulously crafted and presented with the kind of precision that made you wonder whether the chefs used nanobots or just very small knives. The food resembled Japanese cuisine from my old world: delicate, balanced, beautiful in the way that only things which took four hours to prepare and four seconds to eat could be.
It was delicious, no doubt about it. The kind of delicious that made your tongue briefly consider applying for citizenship. But I wasn't exactly in the mood to appreciate it.
I was thinking.
Dangerous, I know.
