Walking under the familiar sign at the entrance of the Royal Mile, Micky was struck by how different his circumstances were. How much his world had changed in a single week. The first time he had visited the tavern had been with Tanya, on the way to a performance he had no control over. Now he was visiting with flowers under his arm and money in his pocket.

Choosing a table in the beer garden, he tucked the flowerpot under his chair. Assuming it would be out of sight, at least to a casual glance he sat back and relaxed. Less than five minutes late he saw the redheaded dragebarn strolling under the entranceway. Standing up with a start he waved a greeting.

“Hey Micky, good to see you. I’m not late am I?” Opal asked as she approached the table with a smile.

“Nah, not at all. I just got here a little early. Running my chores took a little less time than I thought it would.”

As she took the seat opposite him, Micky saw her eyes flash to the flowerpot under his chair. A sly smile crept across her face. “What’s that you’ve got hidden under there?” She asked, the smile becoming larger.

“What these?” Micky answered her smile with one of his own. He reached under the chair and retrieved the small pot, its blue blossoms brushing across the seat as he lifted it.

“Ma Duke’s been telling tales then I take it. Forget-me-nots are my favorite flowers. They’ve always reminded me of home.”

“I hoped you would like them,” Micky said with relief. “I figured a plant was better than cut flowers, they’ve always kind of bummed me out. They’re gorgeous, but watching them wither after a few days was never my favorite.”

“They’re perfect Micky, although you didn’t need to bring me anything”

“I’m pretty sure I still owe you after the whole carrying me home like a princess thing at the Copper Shot”

Opal laughed out loud at this, pausing to compose herself before replying. “In your defense, it was only a princess carry up the stairs. The way home from the pub you were over my shoulder.”

“Honestly, I’m not sure that helps much” Micky replied with a laugh of his own. “I’m pretty sure my pride takes the hit either way.”

“I’ll tell you what” Opal offered with an air of mock condescension. “Next time I’ll let you carry me home while I sing the drinking song.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that. Do you fancy a drink now then? I’ve been working out at the salvaging compound, so my carrying muscles are primed and ready to go.”

“Easy there tiger, how about we get lunch first?”

Opal waved down a waitress, who promptly brought over the menu and two glasses of water.

“How did you find this place anyway Micky? I thought the Copper Shot was more your style?”

“Yeah for sure, it was Tanya who brought me here the first time. I thought we were coming for a working lunch, turned out she’d organized for me to play here. I didn’t even get to try the food.”

Opal winced slightly at the mention of Tanya, carefully placing her glass of water back on the table. “I’ve no idea why Ma Duke is so soft on that woman,” she said with a scowl. The heavy emphasis of the word that leaving no doubt as to her feelings.

“I mean, she’s a bit of a slacker, but it all worked out okay in the end, right? I’ve got a cool new job, a great place to live. Oh, and the company’s not bad” Micky replied with a smile, trying to ease the tension.

“You do now, but she was trying to do the minimum work for the maximum reward, the same as she did when I arrived.”

Trying to change the subject, Micky picked up the menu and started glancing it over. Turning back to Opal he spoke in a stage whisper. “So what’s good? I have no idea what most of this stuff is, and I’m low-key terrified it’s all going to be made from ant.”

Taking the menu from him Opal made a show of going over it in detail. “I’m afraid you’re out of luck in that case, Micky, Dinoponera seems to be the house specialty. It’s ant all the way down.”

“Wait, seriously?”

Opal laughed again, the smile warming her eyes. “No you're fine, it’s pretty much all lamb. You should try the fårikål though. The recipe is from my ‘verse. It’s a lamb and cabbage stew cooked in dark beer.”

“Sold,” Micky said with a smile. “I’m pretty sure you had me at the part where it’s not made from a giant insect.”

Opal called the waitress back over to the table, ordering them two fårikål and a light beer to go with it.

After a few minutes filled with beer and laughter, the food arrived. Two steaming bowls of rich stew, hearty chunks of mutton in a thick savory broth.

“This looks quality Opal,” Micky said before digging his spoon in.

“My mother used to make this for us whenever it got cold” Opal replied with a hint of sadness. “It reminds me of home. Between this and the forget-me-nots, I could almost imagine I’m back in Trondheim.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Micky said in apology.

“No, it’s fine. I’ve been here long enough. It’s not really sad anymore. It’s nice to be reminded of those things now and again. It also makes me think of the good things I’ve found here.” The last part of this sentence was spoken directly to Micky.

Micky and Opal walked out of the tavern side by side after a lunch that had lasted more than a couple of hours. Micky was filled with a combination of stew, beer, and happiness.

“This has been brilliant Opal, I’ve had a great time.”

“Me too Micky, I don’t get the chance to just relax this way often enough.

“Me either, it’s been pretty full-on at the salvage company since I started, and we’re headed out to a convergence site in two days.

Stopping suddenly Opal turned to Micky. “I’d like to do this again sometime soon.”

“Yeah me too Opal. How about when I get back? I’m pretty sure Algernon said it would only be a fortnight or so?

“Sounds like a date,” she said before leaning in to briefly kiss Micky on the cheek. Stunned into stillness Micky barely responded, as she turned and walked away from him.

Over her shoulder, she called out, “I’m still waiting to be carried home.”