His dining room table was lined with dishes. Various dishes sat open for consumption. I had only heard of some but never tried them.
"How gourmet." I said pursing my lips.
"The leftovers go to the subordinates. Those who are employed here are treated well."
Internally I scoffed, they were treated as other. Employed was a loose term for indentured servitude. They were paid very little and lived in communal housing. I imagined having to share rooms and bathrooms with others who are not my family. I felt the priveledge I was afforded.
"Do you not think the class system should be the first to go?"
"All in due time." He clasped my hand in his. I could feel the warmth emanating from our touch. The chemical response triggered by the endearing action made my logical mind dissipate. What was my purpose coming here tonight?
We enjoyed conversing throughout our meal. However, the content of our discussion left something to be desired. He initiated conversation on topics I have no background knowledge. This only made me anxious. How am I supposed to learn the dialect of the Majors?
"Come with me." He extended his hand and I took it graciously.
We went up a spiral staircase and into a private room. The shelves were covered in real books. A soft gasp escaped my lips. Completely involuntary, I moved forward to caress the spine of a book nearby.
"How?" I turned to see his eyes masked behind a cold exterior. He seemed as though he was trying to hide his vulnerability.
"While books have become obsolete they have also become a rare treasure. You can access anything through a communication device or a public port. Every piece of knowledge is a few strokes of your finger away." He took a deep breath as though he had talked too much.
"Go one. Elaborate." I said out of curiosity.
"Books are a rare treasure, not unlike yourself."