of iron and crowns

CHAPTER ONE,

ONE | OF IRON AND CROWNS

  "YOU'RE NOT LISTENING," Myrina accused, laying down the booklet in her hand onto the oak table in the middle of the room. Irina leaned against the arhat bed, one hand pressed against her forehead.

  "I could not care less," Irina drawled in that way of hers that equally terrified and annoyed everyone around her, "about the food being served during the wedding. Ryan's the one obsessed with food, not me."

  Myrina sucked in a breath. "Irina, please. You're making my job very difficult right now."

  Irina raised one carefully drawn brow in response. "Am I?"

  Myrina rubbed her forehead. "Right, we're back to this again. I thought you accepted this, Irina. You seem to like Prince Stephen."

  "Does not mean I have to marry him."

  Myrina stood. "If that's the kind of attitude you're going to have, Irina, I'm going to take my leave first. I have far better things to do than stay here and deal with you."

  "Oh, sit down, Myrina. Fine. The food being served."

  "Are we discussing food?"

  Irina straightened as her cousin, Ryan, the taizi of the Saian Empire entered the parlour, one brow raised. His gaze darted between the two women in the room, landing on the scroll in Myrina's hand. "Aha, knew it. How far are  we in?"

  "Not much, Your Imperial Highness," Myrina replied curtly, though her voice was notably softer than before. She was much more comfortable around Irina than anyone else, and she'd always thought that that was a rather funny fact. Most people greatly preferred Ryan's comforting presence than hers. She was the intense one, the domineering one, the one who demanded too much from people. But Myrina and Ryan had never gotten along, a thin layer of civilness hiding what was on the verge of pure dislike.

  Ryan's eyes darted back to Irina. Traitors. They'd find a common enemy, and today the enemy was her. Irina rubbed her forehead and stood. "It doesn't matter to me. At all. If the noble kitchen can prepare all this and think it's good enough, it's going to be good enough."

  Ryan took the scroll from Myrina's hand and glanced through it. "It's very ordinary," Ryan said. "All dishes are up to standard, of course, but it looks the same as anything you'd find in an expensive and important feast. I'd suggest adding some personal touches into this. You've always liked winter melon with ham, shrimp and pork. Why not ask for that?"

  Irina shrugged. "Don't know. Aren't they already preparing yan guo soup? Bird's nest soup already, no need for more."

  Ryan tilted his head. "Braised pork belly? None of that? They can make that in huge batches. Fairly easy, and it's delicious with rice."

  Irina thought about it. "Add that."

  Myrina reached for the scroll, placed it on the table, and picked up her brush pen to note that down. Ryan continued reading over her shoulders. "There should be more openers, I think. We can let people choose what they want. So far it's just skewers. Jia dian liang cai. Some cold dishes. Cold tofu?"

  "Feels more Asayaman than Saian," Irina pointed out. "Mouthwatering Chicken?"

  "Spicy," Ryan murmured. "Could still be an option, though, I suppose. Wan dou? Some peas?"

  "Still very Asayaman, Ryan."

  Ryan let out a huff and took a step back. "They're Saian cuisine too. Don't see why we can't serve it."