Before long, two plates of grilled fish were set before Angel and Klein, accompanied by two glasses of enticingly colored Sonia Blood Wine.
The Rorsted Islands were also known as the "Spice Islands." They produced a wide variety of exotic spices, and after being developed by the Loen Kingdom, countless plantations had taken root there. Through maritime trade, the expensive spices were shipped back to the North Continent and exchanged for Gold Pounds.
This was also the origin of the name of Rorsted's capital, Bayam, the "City of Generosity." The first colonists had believed this resource-rich island to be a treasure land promised by God.
To Angel, the Rorsted Islands' deposits of gold, silver, copper, and iron, their various kinds of useful timber, and the colonists' exploitation of the locals all felt rather distant. But the spices she recognized and did not recognize, spread across the grilled fish, gave off a very real fragrance that rushed through her nostrils straight to her brain.
"As expected of this restaurant's signature dish..."
She sighed, picked up her knife and fork, and prepared to enjoy the meal, only to find the waiter handing her two rough wooden sticks, thick at one end and thin at the other, barely polished.
Th-this couldn't be chopsticks, could it?
Looking around, Angel quickly noticed that most diners who had ordered the Grilled Comb Thorn Fish were using the two wooden sticks to pick up fish and put it into their mouths. Some handled them clumsily, dropping fish back onto their plates from time to time, but most used the "chopsticks" skillfully, as though they were another pair of fingers.
"You need to use this kind of utensil when eating grilled fish. I hear it was..."
"Emperor Roselle, right?"
Angel nodded knowingly and interrupted the waiter's explanation.
"Yes.