At the boundary between sky and sea, she could make out some shadows that looked like a stretch of land. Squinting, she tried to see whether it was England.
"You could try the telescope," Richard told Georgiana. "If you really want to see the other shore clearly."
Georgiana looked at what he was holding. "Is this the Belgian delicacy you found?"
Richard smiled and handed her the fries and mussels in his hands.
"People say our place is a culinary wasteland. Let's see how well they make fried potatoes."
Georgiana looked at the fries in her hand. They were meant to be eaten with mayonnaise, while the mussels had been cooked in white wine and gave off a rich aroma of alcohol.
She took a bite. They tasted all right, except the potatoes were fried too hard and had a little too much salt.
"I heard it was your idea," Richard suddenly said.
"What?"
"Using a beer tax to support orphans."
"Oh, that wasn't my idea. It was Catherine the Great's," Georgiana hurriedly said. "I only heard that Belgians love drinking beer."
"Why not transport Bordeaux wine to Belgium?" Richard asked.
"I don't think they like it." Georgiana considered it for a moment. "The Dutch and Germans both love beer."
"Have you considered that wine merchants might feel abandoned? Wine is a blessed drink."
"I know," Georgiana said coldly. "But when they complained about refusing to pay the charitable market-entry tax, I think they had already forgotten what kindness was."
"How do you know the beer merchants won't be just like them? Do you think Tartu's beer merchants truly agreed to this system because of the orphans?"
Georgiana looked at him.
"That was only an excuse. But when conflicts become irreconcilable, a buffer is needed." Richard took a bite of