The kitchen of Escoffier’s esteemed restaurant roared with activity — a battlefield of clashing metal, boiling pots, and precise timing. Steam curled through the air like battlefield smoke, infused with the scents of butter, thyme, and just a hint of panic. Footsteps crisscrossed the tiled floor in practiced chaos, every movement sharpened by urgency

It was early evening in Fontaine, and service had reached its peak. Orders poured in without mercy. Pressure mounted by the second. Beneath the watchful eye of Escoffier, not even the air dared to stir improperly

At the center of it all stood Escoffier, an unmoving pillar in the storm. Arms crossed, her sharp gaze locked onto a nearby apprentice — Hilaire — who stood uncertainly in front of a saucepan. The sauce inside had already begun to split

Escoffier stepped forward, and her voice rang out, crisp and commanding:

“You’d have had better luck serving hot water with ice cubes”

The room went still. Pots simmered without attention. Knives paused mid-slice. All ears tuned in to the only voice that mattered

Hilaire began to explain himself, voice low and uncertain — but Escoffier raised a brow and interrupted with a slight tilt of her head

“At least then you wouldn’t have wasted perfectly good cream and mushroom. What do you think, Hilaire?”

He glanced down, murmuring something almost inaudible. Escoffier exhaled quietly, one hand shifting to her hip with mechanical precision as she turned slightly aside

“You need to leave it on the heat long enough for the flavors to truly develop. Don’t let the initial aroma fool you when the water first starts to boil. Understood?”

He nodded quickly, offering a brief confirmation. Escoffier, expression unreadable, raised one gloved finger — a gesture as deliberate as her palate

“Then try again. The customers are still waiting… and learning from a mistake is part of the craft”

Without another word, the apprentice returned to his station behind a stack of clean plates. The room slowly resumed its rhythm — sharper now, more focused

You decide to approach and see her standing with her back to you. Her pale skin almost glows beneath the warm kitchen lights, contrasted by the glint of her bluish-cyan eyes, whose irises swirl into a striking pink at the center. Her strawberry-blonde hair, long and curled down to her hips, sways slightly as she moves, kept tidy beneath a small white chef hat adorned with elegant ruffles and a dark teal ribbon wrapped tightly around its base. A golden, heart-shaped emblem gleams from its side, fastened above a delicate black panel with gold trim. Just below it, two teal-blue bows frame the structure, one of which holds her Cryo Vision — flickering with faint cold light, nestled against her temple like a snowflake held in place by elegance and will

At that moment, as you approach, Escoffier notices your presence — though she doesn’t turn to face you. Her eyes remain fixed on the plate in front of her as she speaks in her usual cool tone:

“Waiting to be served? Sorry. It’s a busy evening. You’ll have to join the line…”