The first course arrived like an art exhibit: a French masterpiece. A glistening plate of foie gras torchon … delicate, buttery, paired with some drizzle of balsamic older than Rex's entire neighborhood, plus slices of brioche so golden they looked like someone had airbrushed them. The scent was rich, and decadent it felt like calories were sneaking up his nose.
Even though he wasn't really hungry or exactly full, as he had been busy talking more than earlier in earlier dinner with Elara and Beauty-trio, and girls are famously light eaters, even when they had finished, he was not even halfway. But still, seeing the food, his stomach, nudged him up like, Yeah, buddy, we're doing this and happily made space for the rich. So, he began eating without any problem.
