The sun had just risen not long ago, the air carried a slight chill, not yet heated up.
The streets of Blue Lion City gradually began to have pedestrians: merchants busy understanding the market trends, craftsmen looking for short-term work opportunities, hunters selling furs, coachmen soliciting passengers...
Everyone treaded on the bluestone road, walking briskly with urgency.
The windows on the second floor of the roadside buildings were opened one after another because of the lack of a proper drainage system, basins of wash water were directly poured onto the streets. Those walking on the road, if unlucky, could get soaked unwittingly.
Amidst the cursing, noise, and hubbub, the atmosphere gradually became lively, Blue Lion City like a giant who had just woken up stretched lazily.
The Blue Lion City Palace was the heart of the giant, compared to other places in Blue Lion City, it appeared slightly quieter and more orderly: maids diligently cleaned the floor, gardeners carefully pruned the plants, guards and soldiers vigilantly stayed at their posts...
At the left atrium of the heart—the east palace of the palace—a breakfast was taking place on a dining table.
Richard sat alone at one end of a four-meter long and over one meter wide dining table, surrounded by maids ready to serve, solitary like sailors on a shipwreck, floating alone at sea.
But Richard did not say anything, after all, fifteen years had made him sufficiently adapt to various lifestyles in this world, too lazy to waste time on changing such trivial things. So he held a knife and fork, maintaining a calm expression while having this medieval-style breakfast.
The main course was white bread, as its name suggests, it was white in color, baked from heavily sifted wheat flour. However, the taste was not pleasant, because the fermentation of bread in this world was very incomplete, once slightly fermented, it was placed in the oven to bake.
This resulted in bread that was not soft like that on modern Earth, it was very hard, biting into it was like gnawing on unleavened bread, severely wearing down the teeth.
In fact, this was only because Richard was a prince that he could eat this kind of bread, if he were a civilian, he would be eating even worse "black bread." So-called black bread, the ingredients were the same as white bread, all made from wheat flour. The difference was, to save on flour, when making black bread, the wheat flour was hardly sifted, so large amounts of bran would be mixed in, making it taste extremely coarse.
Some unscrupulous bakers, to increase the weight of black bread, even deliberately added sawdust, pebbles, and such substances into the bread. At the same time, to increase the shelf life of the bread, the moisture content was minimized, leading to black bread being unbearably hard after baking, and with the passage of time, becoming harder.
Generally speaking, black bread freshly made within the first two days could still be chewed. After two days, it could only be sliced with a dining knife and soaked in soup before eating. After a week, even the dining knife could not cut it, as it would have become rock hard enough to be used as a weapon.
Historical records from the medieval period were not devoid of such instances: foolish thieves, when stealing in poor villages, were accidentally exposed and beaten to death by angry farmers and farmwives wielding black bread.
Of course, bread also had high-end varieties, such as the so-called Queen's bread, or sometimes called the Queen's bread. This kind of bread was made with fine flour mixed with eggs, milk, and wild honey, using beer yeast instead of ordinary leaven to undergo thorough fermentation, and then carefully controlling the oven temperature for baking. The size was only palm-sized, but its taste rivaled, if not surpassed, the high-end cream bread on modern Earth.
However, such an item was considered a luxury more valuable than gold, even a spendthrift King or Great Nobles dared not eat it recklessly, typically it was given to those who made outstanding contributions as a special reward at banquets. The significance was akin to a medal, providing more spiritual satisfaction than flavor gratification.
In summary, medieval staple food, no matter how powerful, in general, could only humbly eat the hard white bread.
Richard held the knife and fork, cut a slice from the white bread, delivered it to his mouth, chewed forcefully, and then swallowed. His expression exhibited neither joy nor sorrow, really accustomed to it.
After a moment, Richard swallowed down the white bread, and footsteps sounded at the dining table, a maid cautiously brought a serving tray to the table and placed it before Richard.
On the tray was a fully cooked pork chop, considered one of the main dishes for breakfast, but it did not look appealing, as the cooking was not well controlled, with some parts already charred.
Richard wielded the knife and fork to gently cut a small piece from the pork chop, delivered it to his mouth, chewed for a long time before breaking it down, and simultaneously a gamy flavor spread in his mouth. This was because medieval biological knowledge was really poor, most people did not know that meat from male livestock should be castrated, resulting in the poor quality and gamy taste of meat from male livestock.
Finally swallowing the pork chop, Richard quickly picked up the cup on his right side and brought it to his mouth.
The cup contained the drink for breakfast.
Generally speaking, in the current world, the most common breakfast drink was not water, but low-alcohol drinks. This was not due to people being fond of liquor, but because of hygiene.
Westerners from ancient to modern times never had the habit of boiling water to drink, where all fresh water lacked disinfection, teeming with bacteria, drinking could easily cause intestinal infections. In this world lacking antibiotics, an intestinal infection would mean a significant chance of dehydration death.
Comparatively, low-alcohol drinks were slightly better, cleaner than fresh water. So many people frequently treated ale or malt wine as water to drink. This kind of wine was different from beer, lacking hops, thus lacking alcoholic flavor and easily turning sour. To mask the odd sour taste, brewers often added all kinds of peculiar things, making drinking wine similar to drinking herbal medicine.
Many people were indifferent to this, drinking malt wine with various flavors heartily, but Richard still found it hard to endure, so the dining table cup contained water—plain boiled water—boiled and disinfected clean drinking water.
Reaching for the cup, he drank a few sips of water, rinsed away the gamy aftertaste in his mouth, and then Richard began to continue eating the sliced bread.
Just after swallowing a slice of white bread with difficulty, suddenly Edward rushed in, exclaiming, "Your Highness, Mr. Delon has arrived."
"Didn't he come yesterday, what's he here for today?" Richard raised his head, asking aloud.
"I don't know." Edward shook his head, "He revealed nothing, only said he wants to see you."
"Ping, ping," two light knocks sounded as Richard put down the dining knife in his hand, pondered for a moment, and said aloud, "Invite him in here."
"Yes." Edward responded, swiftly went out, and soon brought the lean old Mr. Delon into the dining hall.