The rat loved its inn and took pride in it.
That was Ruger's clearest impression.
Ruger had not drawn that impression from the big rat's expression. Simply looking down at the menu, he could feel the deep emotional investment in every page. The rat also fully appreciated what it had put into its work, neither modest nor arrogant, but fair in its acknowledgment of itself. Its efforts could be displayed confidently before everyone, and the purest pride arose naturally from its heart.
Even though this inn had received only two groups of guests in several hundred years.
A little thought made the reason obvious. Where would travelers come from in an isolated Fairy Kingdom? The cheerful fairies lived freely and had no habit of staying at inns.
The Rat Boss had conceived the idea of opening an inn solely because of a dream, and had poured its heart into preparing for it.
The pages of the menu turned one after another, while the big rat waited beside them without a trace of impatience.
Ruger was the slowest of them all.
By the time the others had made their choices, he was only a little over halfway through.
He rubbed the corner of the menu between his fingers, feeling the texture of the page before slowly turning to the next.
Far from growing impatient at Ruger's behavior, the big rat became even happier, its whiskers twitching now and then.
Ruger examined it carefully, discovering more details the longer he looked. Every page of the menu was made of a different material, sometimes even related to the dish pictured on it. For instance, if a soup required the leaves of a flowering plant, its page would be made from those leaves. The page for roasted fruit kernels was hard, and the pattern