Chapter 50

He wasn't interested in money—that much was true—but he wasn't against it either. He only had eight dollars left after descending the mountain. A stable life, he realized, was impossible without it.

Walter saw Nash take a drink, a smile gracing his face. He offered a toast, apologizing for his grandson's behavior the previous day; Nash's acceptance signified forgiveness.

Queenie's displeasure grew with each passing moment she observed Nash. However, her grandfather's presence prevented any outburst. Nash's enthusiastic eating deterred Walter from mentioning his wife's illness.

He picked up his cutlery, smiling. "Queenie, why don't you eat something?" He couldn't possibly ignore the grandmaster's invitation to dine.

Queenie glanced at the food, shaking her head. "I don't want to eat this. It's fit for dogs."

Were animal viscera truly edible?

"How presumptuous!" Walter slammed his hand on the table, glaring at Queenie. "Try everything, or I'll cut off your allowance," he reprimanded. What did she mean by comparing the food to dog food? Miracle Doctor Calcraft was eating heartily; was she humiliating him? And the other guests? Did she possess no tact?

Queenie's already pale face grew even paler under her grandfather's rebuke. Tears welling, she pleaded, "I don't want to eat it… I'll forgo my allowance!"

Walter's face darkened. He turned to a middle-aged man in a suit. "Call Matthias immediately and tell him to cut off his daughter's allowance, starting today. Or I'll cut the family off from the fund." Matthias Watson was his second son, Queenie's father.

The man nodded, smiling, and immediately produced his phone.

Panic seized Queenie. She leapt to her feet. "Don't call him. I'll eat…" Her father would still provide for her, but this would affect her lifestyle significantly. How could she maintain her high-class life without an allowance?

Nash observed Queenie's aggrieved expression. A smile played on his lips. A princess like her had never known hardship; a lesson was in order. Turning to the proprietor, he requested, "Serve the princess some haggis soup."

At the next table, a young man spat out his soup. Queenie glanced at him; he quickly covered his mouth.

Walter inquired of Brian, "Dr. Tanner, what is haggis soup...?"

Brian, with a curious expression, explained, smiling, "It's a famous delicacy from the Aires villages in Southeast Dalamund. The restaurant owner is an Aires."

Queenie speared a sausage, pinching her nose and closing her eyes before shoving it into her mouth. She swallowed it whole, choking on the sizable piece. Grabbing a glass, she took a sip, only to cough violently. It was alcohol—Nash's glass.

With disgust, she tossed it aside. "I ate it. You can't cut off my allowance…" The memory of the sausage churned her stomach.

Walter stated expressionlessly, "Dr. Calcraft has ordered soup for you. You can eat it later…"

Queenie was about to refuse, but her grandfather's stern gaze silenced her.

Some time later, the owner brought a pot of thick soup.