The dim dungeon was lit by oil lamps hanging from its pillars.
Beneath the orange-red lamplight, Albers wore a smile.
He was thoroughly satisfied with his dinner.
There was not only a whole roast wild goose, but also a three-kilogram roast venison steak, along with his favorite wine and pale ale, of course.
The sweet, tart wine had clearly been blended by the manor's winemaker. Albers suspected sugar had been added.
The pale ale's freshness, smoothness, and bitterness, meanwhile, clearly spoke of twelve weeks of aging.
He downed both cups of wine in one go-that was all the wine there was. Oak Manor had already been generous enough. After all, in the Silver Age, knights received a cup of wine only when setting out for battle or returning victorious.
Roast wild goose and venison were also favorites of the nobility, ranking above pork, beef, and lamb at banquets.
As for fish?
For a long time, the nobles of South Los had refused to recognize fish as meat. They considered it vegetarian food-because fish was what commoners ate most of the time.
That was no longer the case, of course, but certain customs endured.
He tore off a goose leg. Its crisp skin crackled as it came away, shedding large flakes onto his plate. Albers snatched up the skin and stuffed it into his mouth, then washed its crunch down with a mouthful of pale ale.
The ale's fresh flavor mingled perfectly with the goose fat. It truly was heavenly!
Almost instinctively, Albers wanted another mouthful-unlike the scarce wine, pale ale was far more common, and the old butler had brought him an entire keg.
But Albers restrained himself.
The detective had not forgotten his assignment.
His gaze kept sweeping toward the cell where Marian was being held.
It was utterly