When Ray finally arrived, Carlotta Montelli simply raised her teacup and took a small sip of the richly colored black tea, her expression showing not the slightest trace of reproach.
Stay elegant.
That was the first lesson in conduct her grandfather had taught her. She had kept it close to her heart, weaving it into every subtle gesture of her daily life.
"Hungry?" Carlotta set down the delicate teacup and lifted her gaze toward the slightly flustered Ray sitting across from her. The corners of her lips curved into a gentle, warm smile. "Don't put too much pressure on yourself. Just treat this meal like an ordinary dinner. Relax and enjoy."
Soft music drifted lightly through the air, swaying with the dim, refined lighting.
This was Ray's first time dining in such a high-end establishment.Even though he was doing his best to appear calm, subtle movements still betrayed the tension and unease in his body.
It was as if he feared that even his unconscious habits might draw criticism from others.
In his daily life and work, Ray didn't particularly care about other people's opinions. But in public, especially in such a setting, even if not for his own sake, he had to consider his superior's reputation.
Sigh. That's what happens when you're used to being a workhorse.
Even off the clock, you can't help thinking about the company and the boss.
"I wasn't sure what you'd like, so I haven't ordered yet," Carlotta said, giving a light clap of her hands. A nearby waiter immediately stepped forward and handed the menu to Ray. "I'm not very familiar with Huanglong cuisine, so why don't you do the honors?"
"Me?" Ray hesitated slightly as he accepted the menu.
"Of course." Carlotta gave a small nod.
Encouraged by her approval, Ray opened the menu out of curiosity.
After examining it for a while, his brows slowly knit together.
'What… what… what is all this?
Steamed Lotus Blossom?
Isn't that just steamed egg custard? And they dare charge 1,500 shell-coins for it?
Who in the world charges 1,500 shell-coins for eggs?!
And this Gathering of Heroes—it's literally just a plate of sliced radishes!'
Carlotta noticed his strange expression and asked calmly, "What's wrong? Is it not to your liking?"
Ray was still staring at the menu. Hearing her question, he set it down, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the edge. His eyes showed a hint of hesitation; he wasn't quite sure how to explain this to her.
In the end, he pursed his lips and tried to phrase it as tactfully as possible.
"Uh… it's nothing. The Huanglong cuisine here, while not as absurd as putting warm sea-crown pear on pizza, is still…"
"Still?" A flicker of curiosity appeared in Carlotta's eyes. She leaned forward slightly. "Still what?"
Ray fell silent for a moment, gathering his courage. After a brief pause, he spoke slowly, "It feels like they've priced tomato stewed noodles far beyond what they're actually worth. It's… a bit hard to accept."
"Oh, I see." Carlotta nodded gently, understanding flashing in her eyes. "You mean it's overpriced? That's normal. The location and style of this restaurant mean the operating costs are higher than usual, so naturally there's a premium. Don't worry about it, just order whatever you like."
Since she put it that way, Ray had no reason to refuse any longer.
"By the way, Second Young Miss," Ray asked, "do you prefer sweet flavors or spicy ones?"
Carlotta thought for a moment, then rested her cheek against one hand and looked at him with a meaningful smile. "I don't have strong preferences. But eating the same food with different people carries entirely different meanings."
She paused slightly before continuing, "Within the Montelli family, there's a saying: only after sharing a bottle of honeydew wine and eating a slice of citrus pie together are we truly considered family. So… how about it? Want to try that next time?"
Ray: "?"
'Why does that sound a bit… strange? Am I overthinking this?'
Just then, a discordant set of footsteps cut through the restaurant's gentle music.
A middle-aged man stopped beside their table. His posture was upright yet rigid, his steps steady and heavy, exuding an intangible pressure.
Following closely behind him were two Vitreum Dancers, the signature Echoes affiliated with the Montelli family.
"Carlotta, what are you doing here?"
The man looked down slightly, his sharp gaze fixed on her. His voice was low and authoritative.
"Just having dinner with a friend," Carlotta replied calmly, lifting her teacup once more. She closed her eyes briefly, took a sip, and spoke leisurely. "What, would you like to join us, Uncle?"
The man turned his head and cast a sharp, appraising look at Ray, less observation, more evaluation.
Ray knew who he was.
Coppola Montelli, the biological son of the current head of the Montelli family, and in the eyes of many, the designated heir.
Even so, that scrutinizing gaze stirred a sense of discomfort in Ray's chest. The longer he stayed in Ragunna, the more he disliked the ways of noble families, whether major or minor.
When they assessed others, there was always an innate arrogance, a sense of superiority.
Carlotta was the rare exception.
"A friend?" Coppola narrowed his eyes, confusion evident. "I don't recall you ever dining with a member of the opposite sex before. Tell me, what exactly is the relationship between you two?"
"Who knows?" A faint, nearly imperceptible smile touched Carlotta's lips. Her tone was casual, as if the matter were trivial. "Uncle may think whatever he likes."
Her response clearly displeased Coppola, but he merely furrowed his brows, maintaining his composure.
"I understand. You're at an age where emotions begin to bloom. If being with him helps relieve your pressure, I won't oppose it."
His gaze moved between Carlotta and Ray before he continued.
"I know the family has placed excessive expectations on you. I don't intend to interfere too deeply in your private life, you deserve some space and happiness of your own."
"However," his tone hardened slightly, "this matter concerns the family's interests and reputation. As the second daughter of the Montelli family, your lifelong commitments cannot be decided on a whim."
"I'll discuss this properly with Father at an appropriate time."
Then, as if delivering a final verdict, he added, "When the time comes, bring him to meet Father."
With that, Coppola turned and left.
Ray: "?"
'What just happened? I came here for a meal… and suddenly I'm a prospective son-in-law?'
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Read advance chapters on [email protected]/lost_moon