From August to September, Atlantic salmon returned to their river mouths to spawn. The tables of East Coast high society were never without that enticing bright orange, whether as salmon sashimi, pan-seared salmon, herb salmon salad, Tuscan salmon, or salmon paired with versatile seasonal vegetables.
The grand dining table at Rodriguez Manor was used only for banquets of six or more. Its last use had been for the mages' Last Supper. It had taken some effort to clean away the scent left by the moose meat, but Merkel had ultimately done his job well, as had the chef.
Schiller could clearly see the surprise on Lex's face as he followed Merkel into the dining room and approached the grand table.
Lex looked at Schiller and asked, "Professor, do Gotham and Metropolis define a simple meal differently? Do I need to go back and change into formal wear?"
"No, not at all." Schiller shook his head and sat at the head of the table, gesturing toward the first seat on his right. Lex sat down, visibly uneasy.
The reason was simple. He wore only a shirt, and not even a particularly formal one. His outerwear, a long trench coat, had already been put away by Merkel. He had no tie or bow tie, and he was currently trying to fasten his cuffs so their metal edges would not chip the marble tabletop.
Schiller still wore a dark suit. The only difference from the day before was the subtle pattern on his tie. Lex studied him carefully and confirmed that this truly was Professor Schiller, not some other Schiller.
He knew this professor was so rigorous he bordered on obsessive. Even the most disheveled troublemakers in the class would straighten up before entering his office, lest they be skewered straight through by