The five-meter-tall figure was encased in sleek golden armor, resembling a silent statue even while seated.
Beside him, a rotund blue Fish-Man warrior tapped thick fingers against the table, producing a muffled rhythm.
A woman wearing a patterned mask rested quietly against her chair, surveying her surroundings through its eyeholes.
The man at the head of the table wore a pink haori over an immaculate black suit, his eyes concealed behind crimson lenses.
The chair beside him was empty, the tablecloth before it perfectly smooth.
The restaurant owner personally carried a silver-plated tray back and forth, carefully placing dish after dish on the gleaming tabletop.
The commotion around the docks seemed not to have disturbed the bustle of everyday life here-the news of the princess's peril had circulated briefly through the streets before worries over making a living buried it again.
The Riku royal family's integrity was widely praised, but maintaining an army required hard cash, to say nothing of the heavy tribute that had to be paid to the World ** every year.
Whoever sat on the throne, the common people's stoves could not be allowed to go cold.
"Our signature dish, deep-sea scarlet shrimp rice."
A crustacean over a meter long had been split in half, exposing firm, snowy-white flesh laid over pale golden grains of rice.
Steam rose, carrying the briny freshness of the ocean and the toasted fragrance of grain.
"Violet ink thin noodles."
Deep purple sauce clung to slender noodles, the delicate fragrance of some flower deftly balancing the seafood's fishiness.
A faint crunch could be heard with each bite, followed by a springy chewiness between the teeth.
"Chilled soup with legendary pumpkin."
"Wait-"
A muffled male voice came from beside the round table, belonging to the burly man in the metal mask. "Legendary pumpkin?