Ingrid and Caym sat across from each other at the wooden table, surrounded by the warm ambiance of the tavern. The spread of dishes before them was carefully prepared and presented.
Caym was the first to sample each dish with a discerning palate. Ingrid watched him intently, her blue eyes filled with curiosity and anticipation despite maintaining a posture of a distinguished lady.
After a few moments of tasting, Caym gave an approving nod. With the signal, Ingrid eagerly reached to taste the dish. As she took her first bite, a smile of delight spread across her lips, mirroring Caym's earlier approval. Her nod of satisfaction was a silent affirmation of the dish's excellence.
However, not every dish garnered the same enthusiastic response. Ingrid's expression would turn blank, holding back any hint of discomfort or impoliteness whenever a dish failed to suit her taste. Perhaps this was her way of showing respect to both the food and the cook.
