The Couple's Set and the Split Plate
When I arrived at the fountain where we had agreed to meet, Everett was already there waiting.
I approached him a little hesitantly, scanning his clothes as I went.
I was worried I might have overdressed.
Today Everett wasn’t wearing his usual robe. All the effort I’d put into tearing my closet apart since morning had been worth it. His outfit looked as though he had carefully selected the best pieces from a tailor’s shop and put them on right away.
“Miss Diaz.”
Everett, spotting me, extended his hand. The escort gesture had become rather familiar by now. When I placed my hand over his, he guided me toward our destination with the smooth flow of water.
“I made a reservation at a restaurant. I’m not sure whether you’ll like it.”
The restaurant Everett had chosen was right beside the fountain where we’d agreed to meet.
“This place…”
Even someone as fashion-blind as me knew it was the capital’s hottest spot.
“Wasn’t it difficult to get a reservation?” I whispered while we waited for the waiter at the entrance. Everett answered with deliberate nonchalance.
“It wasn’t that hard.”
“What luck. I’ve always wanted to come here.”
When I smiled at him in genuine gratitude, the tips of his ears flushed red.
Is his outfit too warm?
My fleeting question scattered the moment the waiter approached.
“Sir Everett Rohas and Miss Carolina Diaz, his companion?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll show you to your reserved table.”
The thirty-something waiter, who looked as if he had twenty years of service under his belt, guided us with professional grace. Once I was seated in the chair he pulled out for me, menus were placed before us both.
When my indecision dragged on because there were more options than I’d expected, the waiting waiter spoke up.
“Most couples who visit us tend to order the couple’s set.”
He said it with complete confidence that we were lovers. A subtle, awkward silence settled over the table.
If I deny it, won’t Everett feel embarrassed?
I simply smiled once without a word and asked Everett, “The set looks excellent. Shall we go with the recommended dishes?”
Everett nodded, his expression slightly dazed.
His cheeks look flushed. Maybe he’s sensitive to heat.
My guess must have been correct; when I asked the waiter to open a window, Everett’s complexion quickly returned to normal.
I had assumed only awkward silence would hover over us until the food arrived, but once the dazed look left his face and color returned, Everett began to lead the conversation little by little.
Perhaps meeting a few times had eased things. He seemed slightly less taciturn than before. I found myself drawn into the exchange as well, and before long the appetizer arrived.
Our conversation paused while we listened to the waiter’s description.
“Our restaurant’s couple set takes the love between partners as its theme. This particular appetizer captures the moment of first falling into the most thrilling, heart-fluttering kind of love… We’ve added a bright note of freshness with lemon…”
Once the waiter finished serving and wheeled the trolley away, the small private room filled with silence.
This couple’s set is way more on-the-nose than I expected.
My mind suddenly felt empty. We couldn’t even meet each other’s eyes. Dozens of seconds passed before I finally managed to come up with something to say.
“It looks delicious. No wonder this is the most famous restaurant in the capital.”
I picked up my fork, pretending to be absorbed in the food.
“Indeed.”
Everett followed suit, lifting his own fork and taking a bite of salad. The food became an excellent excuse to endure the sudden quiet.
They definitely said it was lemon dressing, but I can’t taste it at all.
I mechanically carried another forkful to my mouth. Still, once I set the fork down I would have to speak again.
Let’s just eat.
We attacked the appetizer as though we had been starving for days. Fortunately, the main course arrived before the excuse completely ran out.
It was perfect timing.
“This is tenderloin steak.”
Aside from the clink of cutlery, it had been a long while since any voice had echoed in the small room. After a lengthy explanation comparing the red-wine sauce—simmered for hours to the mature love of a passionately burning couple—to the heart-shaped steak made from the finest aged meat, the waiter finally withdrew.
Once again we quickly picked up our forks and knives.
“Please enjoy.”
“Thank you for the meal.”
After that short, awkward exchange, the only sound for some time was the soft scrape of knives, as though we were both utterly focused on cutting our steaks.
At first it had been a form of escape, but I soon had no choice but to concentrate. The steak here was unexpectedly difficult to eat.
The blade isn’t cutting well.
The meat itself was tender, yet my knife seemed dull. As the steak began to shred and its precious juices leaked out, I reached for the bell to request a new knife.
“If it’s difficult, shall I cut it for you?”
Everett must have been watching my struggle with the blunt knife. After a brief hesitation I handed him my plate.
“Thank you.”
He answered my quiet gratitude with a blunt little smile. The knife, now slightly warm from my hand, was taken up by his.
Everett was more skilled than I was, but a dull knife didn’t suddenly become sharp. His cuts were cleaner than mine, yet still not perfect.
It’s not working for him either.
It didn’t look as though he had any clever solution. I reached for the bell again to ask for a fresh knife.
At that exact moment the knife flashed with a golden light, as if reflecting sunlight. The dazzling brilliance gradually faded, and Everett began slicing the steak with ease.
Oh. It works after all.
The cross-section was perfectly straight, as though cut with a ruler.
“Sir Rohas, you really are good with a knife.”
I looked back and forth between him and the knife, then clapped my hands. It felt like applauding a marvelous trick.
The door had opened, and the faint blush that had settled on Everett’s face rose softly once more.
He must have used quite a bit of strength.
After all, cutting so neatly with a dull knife would require several times the normal effort. When Sir Rohas cleared his throat a few times, the golden glow that had faintly illuminated the knife gradually dimmed and disappeared completely.
“It’s nothing…”
Thud.
He had spoken so casually that I might have let it pass if the plate hadn’t split cleanly in two right as he said the word “nothing.”
So that’s the sound a plate makes when it splits.
The plate had been severed exactly in half, as though sliced with a diamond blade, and the neatly cut steak bounced right out.
Everett’s eyes trembled like they were in the middle of an earthquake. Startled by the loud noise, I met his gaze and witnessed the full pupil-quake. I burst out laughing.
“You didn’t have to cut the plate as well.”
I wiped the tears that had gathered at the corners of my eyes from laughing so hard and spoke playfully.
“The plate must have been fragile.”
Everett avoided my eyes and grumbled his excuse.
“We’ll go with that explanation.”
I generously accepted his defense. After laughing until my stomach hurt, I rang the bell and ordered another steak.
While we waited for the new dish, I teased Everett relentlessly. His reactions—somehow making it feel as if he were the one teasing—had a refreshing charm. The atmosphere relaxed so completely that I almost forgot the awkward silence had ever existed.
In the much lighter mood we finished our dessert as well, then left the restaurant feeling a little closer than before.
Because we had met in the early afternoon, the sky was still bright.
Should I treat him to tea as thanks?
But that felt too much like a standard date course. Suddenly I remembered Connie excitedly trying to push Everett and me together. I shook my head vigorously behind his back to clear the distracting thought.
At just the right moment, Everett asked, “Do you have any other plans afterward?”
“No, nothing in particular.”
I answered honestly.
“Then I’ll escort you home.”
He extended his hand.
Now that I think about it, this pattern feels awfully familiar.
His textbook-perfect etiquette made me smile inwardly.
Not that I’m refusing.
I gladly accepted his escort. After the plate incident had lowered the tension, conversation flowed smoothly between us the whole way.
Chatting like that, it felt as if someone had fast-forwarded time; the green roof of my apartment building appeared almost instantly.
Everett stopped in the alley near the house where I had said goodbye to him last time.
“There’s still no presence around, but please go straight inside without wandering off, Miss Diaz.”
With only those words, he turned on his heel. It was consideration, wanting me to return home comfortably.
I thought he was simply a blunt man.
The awkwardness had lasted only a moment. The conversation had been enjoyable, and the time we spent together had felt easy.
I watched his retreating back for a moment, then called out.
“Sir Rohas.”
Everett paused, then turned toward me. I kicked at the ground with the toe of my shoe and mumbled.
“I did bring the handkerchief I borrowed last time.”
Carefully I pulled the neatly folded handkerchief from the pocket of my day dress.
“But I’ll return it to you next time.”
For some reason, it felt like the right thing to do.