January 28, 2015.
Beijing, Dongcheng District.
Tempest Café.
9:45 a.m.
The princess was sweeping the floor when Lucia returned.
The café had just opened, and the morning rush hadn't started yet. Rimuru was in the back, doing something with the espresso machine that involved a lot of muttered complaints. Wang Li was at the counter, reviewing the café's financial records with the expression of someone who had discovered several unpleasant surprises.
The princess was humming.
It was a song from an anime she'd watched on her new phone at three in the morning.
She had gotten exactly two hours of sleep.
She was thriving.
The door opened.
Lucia walked in, carrying several shopping bags.
"Good morning, dear!" she called out.
The princess looked up.
"Good morning, Grandmother!"
The word came out naturally now.
It had only been a few days, but somehow, calling Lucia "Grandmother" felt right.
Lucia beamed.
"I brought you something."
THE GIFT
The princess's eyes lit up.
"A gift? For me?"
Lucia set down her shopping bags and reached into her pocket.
"Just something small. I found it while I was exploring."
She pulled out a small object.
It was a grain.
A single grain of rice.
Or at least, it looked like a grain of rice.
Golden. Glowing faintly. Small enough to balance on the tip of a finger.
The princess stared at it.
"It's... very small," she said carefully.
Lucia smiled.
"It's not the size that matters, dear."
THE EXPLANATION
Wang Li had set down the financial records and was now watching the exchange with interest.
Rimuru had emerged from the back, wiping his hands on a towel.
"What is that?" he asked.
Lucia held up the grain.
"This," she said, "is a grain of infinite multiverses."
The room went silent.
The princess's golden eyes widened.
"A... what?"
"A grain of infinite multiverses. It contains countless universes within it. Infinite possibilities. Infinite realities. Infinite everything."
She paused.
"From your perspective, it's very small. But inside, it's... well, infinite."
The princess stared at the tiny golden grain.
"That's a lot of pressure for something so small," she said.
Lucia laughed.
"It's stable. I made sure of that."
THE TASTE
"Can I... eat it?" the princess asked.
Lucia nodded.
"That's what it's for."
The princess hesitated.
"Is it safe?"
Rimuru snorted.
"Nothing about Lucia's gifts is 'safe.' But they're usually not lethal."
Lucia gave him a look.
"Don't scare her."
"I'm not scaring her. I'm providing appropriate context."
The princess took the grain from Lucia's hand.
It was warm.
Not hot, but warm—like a tiny sun resting in her palm.
She could feel something emanating from it.
Something vast.
Something ancient.
Something that made her soul tremble.
THE DECISION
She ate it.
She didn't overthink it.
She just popped the grain into her mouth and swallowed.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then—
Everything.
THE TASTE OF INFINITY
The first thing she registered was taste.
Not one taste.
All tastes.
Every flavor that had ever existed or would ever exist exploded across her tongue simultaneously.
Sweet and salty and bitter and sour and umami and things she had no names for.
She tasted sunlight.
She tasted starlight.
She tasted the cold of deep space and the warmth of a newborn star.
She tasted rain on alien worlds and the salt of oceans that had dried up billions of years ago.
She tasted love.
She tasted loss.
She tasted the first breath of the first living thing and the last thought of the last dying god.
It was overwhelming.
It was beautiful.
It was infinite.
She fell to her knees.
The broom clattered to the floor beside her.
Her golden eyes were wide, staring at nothing, seeing everything.
"The taste..." she whispered.
Her voice was shaking.
"The taste is... everything."
THE CONCERN
Wang Li rushed to her side.
"Princess? Are you okay?"
The princess didn't respond.
She was still staring at nothing, her face pale, her breathing rapid.
Rimuru sighed.
"Lucia, what did you do?"
Lucia smiled.
"I gave her a gift."
"You gave her an existential crisis."
"That's just a side effect. She'll be fine."
THE RECOVERY
It took several minutes for the princess to come back to herself.
When she did, she was sitting on the floor, her back against the counter, a cup of water in her hands.
"That was..." she started.
She didn't finish.
She didn't have words.
"What did it taste like?" Wang Li asked.
The princess's golden eyes focused on her.
"Everything," she said. "It tasted like everything. Like every meal ever eaten, every fruit ever picked, every drop of water ever drunk. But also... more. Things I can't describe. Things that don't have names."
She paused.
"It was the most beautiful thing I've ever experienced. And also the most terrifying."
She looked at Lucia.
"Can I have another one?"
THE LAUGHTER
Lucia burst out laughing.
The sound filled the café, warm and bright.
"You just had an existential crisis, and you want another?"
The princess nodded eagerly.
"It was amazing. I want to taste it again. I want to understand it better."
Lucia wiped a tear from her eye.
"Not today, dear. One grain is enough for now. The effects last a lifetime."
The princess's eyes widened.
"They do?"
"Your palate has been... expanded. Permanently. You'll taste things differently now. More deeply. More completely."
Lucia smiled.
"Every meal will be a little more magical from now on."
THE DOWNSIDE
Rimuru was watching the princess with a knowing expression.
"There's a downside," he said.
The princess looked at him.
"What downside?"
Rimuru walked over and picked up a pastry from the display case.
"Try this," he said.
The princess took the pastry.
It was one of her own—a slightly misshapen croissant from yesterday.
She bit into it.
Her face changed.
She chewed slowly.
Swallowed.
Then she made a face.
"This tastes... terrible."
Rimuru nodded.
"Exactly. Now that you've tasted infinity, normal food is going to seem bland. Your own cooking especially."
The princess stared at the pastry in horror.
"My cooking is ruined?"
"Your cooking was already ruined. Now you just know it."
THE ADJUSTMENT
The princess spent the next hour in a state of culinary despair.
She tried everything in the café.
The croissants. The cookies. The bread. The coffee.
Everything tasted... diminished.
Not bad, exactly.
Just... less.
Like listening to music through a wall.
She could still appreciate it, but the depth was gone.
"I've ruined myself," she moaned, slumped over the counter.
Lucia patted her head.
"You'll adjust, dear. In a few days, your senses will recalibrate. Normal food will taste good again. It just won't be... infinite."
The princess looked up at her.
"Promise?"
Lucia smiled.
"Promise."
THE SILVER LINING
There was one unexpected benefit.
The princess discovered it later that afternoon, when Rimuru asked her to taste a new coffee blend he was developing.
She took a sip.
And immediately identified every flavor note.
"Ethiopian beans, medium roast. Hints of blueberry, dark chocolate, and... is that cardamom?"
Rimuru raised an eyebrow.
"Impressive."
"Also, the water temperature was slightly too low. And the grind was a little too coarse."
Rimuru stared at her.
Then at the cup.
Then back at her.
"You can tell all that from one sip?"
The princess shrugged.
"I tasted infinity. Your coffee is good, but it's not that good."
Rimuru's eye twitched.
"I'll keep that in mind."
THE EVENING
By evening, the princess had mostly recovered.
She was still adjusting to her enhanced palate, but the despair had faded, replaced by a quiet wonder.
"Thank you, Grandmother," she said, sitting beside Lucia at one of the café tables.
Lucia looked at her.
"For what, dear?"
"For the gift. For the experience. For... everything."
She paused.
"I never imagined I'd taste infinity. It was terrifying. But it was also beautiful."
Lucia smiled.
"That's life, dear. Terrifying and beautiful at the same time."
She reached out and took the princess's hand.
"And now, every meal you eat will remind you of that. Every flavor will be a little more precious. Every bite will be a little more meaningful."
She squeezed gently.
"That's the real gift. Not the taste itself, but the appreciation it brings."
THE PRINCESS'S SMILE
The princess smiled.
It was a small smile, but it was real.
"I think I understand," she said.
She looked out the window, at the city beyond—the lights, the people, the endless movement of life.
"There's so much I don't know. So much I haven't experienced. And now... I want to. I want to taste everything. See everything. Learn everything."
Her golden eyes shone.
"I want to live."
Lucia's smile widened.
"Then live, dear. Live as much as you can."