'I'm hungry.'
Moiraine sighed. Lan always seemed hungry. Most people always seemed hungry. They worked their way around meals. Maybe it was her. Was she the problem? She wasn't interested in food.
Lan tugged her over to a restaurant under the awnings, the spectacularly named Pufferfish. She barely glanced at it but he was intent on some seafood. He plonked them down at a table and studied the menu.
'What do you want?'
'Whatever you're having.'
He rolled his eyes. His friend had no tastebuds. She looked around her and studied the netting décor while he picked out a fish platter to share. She was only going to pick at it so he could order what he liked.
The trout was tender and delicately seasoned, eel and haddock smoked to perfection and the salads were fresh and seasonal. Moiraine ate a bit of everything, said it was fine. Her focus was never on the food.
'How was it?' The waitress asked as she picked up the plates.
'Fantastic. Never had a better plate of fish.'
The waitress explained that this was the chef's speciality, that she was the daughter of a fisherman and had grown up knowing all about this protein. She was now head chef of the kitchen. She really knew her stuff. Lan listened, fascinated, Moiraine listened with half an eye on the time. The waitress gestured to the open space where the chefs congregated and they saw a tall handsome woman with dexterous hands, gutting and cleaning a fish.
'That's her. That's a prime piece of pike she's got there.'
Lan looked at his companion, watching the technique with a modicum of interest. He grinned. It clearly wasn't the food she was interested in.
'If we come here again, we'll give our compliments to her' he suggested.
'You can do it now. We have a guestbook.'
'Ooooh a guestbook. Let's do that' he said. Moiraine narrowed her eyes at him. She knew he was teasing her. Of course he had noticed her staring at the chef. He missed nothing.
'Now, what shall we write?' He asked, wielding the pen.
'Whatever you want. We need to go soon.'
He wrote down something appropriate, signed their names and put it back on the table. Catching the chef's eye, he gave her a thumbs up and left. Moiraine followed and looked back. The other woman was still watching, knife tilted up. They nodded to each other before Moiraine strode out. She'd have to chew her way through another fish if it meant greeting the chef again.