Edna had to admit it — reluctantly, of course that apart from the fact the brew was immensely spicy, it was also… divine.
It wasn't the delicate refinement of the palace's banquets.
It wasn't even the precise elegance of the capital's high-class restaurants.
This was different.
The taste was raw, bold, and unapologetic, an explosion of heat and flavor that clung to her tongue like fire dancing in her mouth.
The broth seemed alive — spices searing through her taste buds, tenderness in the noodles offset by the sharp bite of the sauce.
Simply saying that it was delicious, could not cut it… It was a literal work of art, it deserved to be in the museum.
It was beautiful.
Far better than she'd expected.
She took a sharp breath in through her mouth to calm her protesting tongue.
The moment she thought she'd mastered the heat — conquered it like the Empress she was, her pride whispered a dare.
A stupid dare.
Without thinking, she tilted the bowl, downing the rest in one go.
