act20mini

You come to a wine tasting and don't taste the wine.

I just don't have an appreciation for the smell of that Kazimierzian red wine.

You got here earlier than I expected.

I was invited, so I'm not allowed to drop by at the last second. Otherwise, it'll look like I'm back to my old habits.

Aren't you in the same situation, Mayor Bellone?

Whenever you say 'old habits', it always makes me feel like you're bragging about the progress you've made.

I'll take that as a compliment. You know me. I was never any good at picking out the condemnations between the praise.

Leontuzzo does not answer. He simply turns his head away from the stage and back toward Demetri, his eyes falling on the bowtie around his neck.

It's been too long since they last met. He's not sure just how much of Demetri's current business-like demeanor is sincere.

You look like a real businessman today, Demetri.

Not to your liking?

There are a lot of things to my liking, but that doesn't mean I'm not worried.

What about Nuova Volsinii? Is it going the way you hoped it would? Worried about the city and the people who scurry around it?

It's growing as I expected.

You're the same as you ever were. You talk about order, but your eyes are fixed on the people—Hey, my hands are clean. What, scared I'm gonna take something from you?

What scares me is you treating the city like your kitchen table. Give it a flip, and everything on top will come crashing down to the ground.

Then you'd better watch me closely, Leon. The closer you stick to me, the harder it'll be for me to mess up.

The Kazimierizian businessman beside them is clearly in a good mood.

He stands up as the performance ends, lightly applauding as he signals the attendants to prepare the next step.

I have to say, I love how you Nuova Volsiniese know when to applaud, and when to stay quiet.

It's a rare thing. Most places, people make a ruckus when they should be silent, and stay quiet when they should be clapping up a storm.

I'd like to thank the orchestra for their marvelous performance. I'd also like to invite tonight's judge to come and witness our competition.

A musician from Leithanien and a guest of this fair city, Frau Paola.

As a woman unaffiliated with any wine dealer or famiglia, I think there's no one more suited for the job.

The conductor on the stage gives a graceful nod to the audience, before being guided by an attendant to the table of red wines at the front.

<i>Buonasera</i>, everyone.

I know only how to play music and conduct an orchestra, so I'm not very good at offering praise, or pretty descriptions, but since I'm judging the finals, I promise—

I will sample them all with care, then say what I feel as I drink them, truthfully.

Haha, that's exactly why we chose you.

Pretty descriptions? No, what we need are honest assessments.

He lifts his hand, beckoning the attendants to fill three wine glasses from three decanters.

Now then, let's begin.

The three finalists come from different wineries and different terroirs, and they each have their own 'ambitions'.

The rules are simple: no looking at the labels, no listening to any stories, just pure flavor. If you will, Frau Paola.

The tall musician nods, a serious look on her face as she lifts the first glass. She sniffs, sips, swallows, and stops.

The first glass... sticks strictly to the standard.

The aroma is unassertive; it does not rush the mouth. The fruity flavor is front-loaded, and quickly restrained.

You can tell that it avoids making any mistakes, not letting any one flavor linger for too long. All in all, a harmonious package.

This is a wine I could offer to guests without worry.

The second glass is, hmm, very much like the locals.

The alcohol makes itself known quickly, but not in an irritating way, and without any sharp sensations.

It's a little bold when entering the mouth, with a direct sourness, the type that wouldn't ask for your opinion beforehand.

It is the third glass that Paola savors the slowest. She takes a sip, but does not immediately swallow, letting the red wine linger on the tip of her tongue for a moment.

The third glass...

There's no brashness at the beginning, but the layering and the structure are very clear. It's not a crowd-pleasing sort of wine...

It's as if... it doesn't care if you enjoy it or not. It's not going to try and win you over. It knows its own path, and it'll walk it to the end.

It has attitude. An attitude I happen to like.

Czarek turns to the audience and raises his hand, as if he were already standing atop the podium.

Now, Frau Paola, if you would pick which of the three glasses you believe is most worth remembering—

The third, naturally.

Czarek is practically already reaching out for the bottle behind the third glass. His voice is more excited than before, but he maintains his composure.

Well, I think we all heard her.

This wine is—

You'd best check the label again.

Otherwise, things might end up rather embarrassing for you.

Pardon...?

Czarek freezes. He slowly looks down at the bottle. The moment he gets a clear look at the label, the smile on his face dies.

But only for a moment. A moment so short that almost nobody can react. Once it passes, his rictus grin is plastered back onto his face.

...It seems tonight's first surprise arrived earlier than I expected.

Like you said, no leaning on stories, just the wine itself.

I really must wonder, though, how did a bottle of 'Golden Prairie' transform into a wine that isn't on the list of finalists?

Oh? I guess even Kazimierz's legendary business management systems aren't free from little mistakes like registration errors.

Haha, yes, just a little mistake!

Let's all give a warm round of applause to the winner, Saluzzo Vino!

Your wine has earned our most stringent, yet most objective praise.

Grazie mille. I'm glad the words 'fair competition' still apply tonight.

It's a good thing for everyone involved.

Haha, a good thing indeed.

If the winner were always predetermined, then business would be dreadfully boring. And the very reason I came to Nuova Volsinii was to get away from boring business.

Let us toast! To the champion, a local winery—and to this fair city!

<i>Salute</i>.

The attendants begin refilling the guests' glasses. Applause rings out once more, more enthusiastic than before.

Applause that includes Leontuzzo's clapping.

Not going to toast me, Leon?

You know my palate isn't as refined as yours. Won't you introduce your winning wine before the toast?

Hah... If you insist.

This isn't a wine that needs much introduction. It's not trying to impress anyone, or to prove anything with the first sip.

It's most suited for when the dinner table's almost cleared out, and most things worth saying have been said, but you're not quite ready to leave yet. That's when you notice there's still a glass of this left.

It will be your final safeguard, making sure your words don't spill out onto the floor. It will remind you of the past, and make it easier to reach an agreement.

If you think this is exactly the wine you need, then it's already done its job.

This wine... has some grand ambitions.

So it does. It's like what Frau Paola just said. It follows the path of its choosing, without caring whether you like it or not.

Since it chose this road, I've got nothing to say about whether I like it.

Demetri smiles, but does not answer. He simply raises his glass, giving it a gentle clink against Leontuzzo's.

Before the clink can fade away, a light, incongruent cough makes itself heard from the other side of the stage.

Paola's hand stops in midair, the glass between her fingers trembling ever so slightly, as the wine leaves irregular streaks on the glass.

...Sorry.

*cough* *COUGH*!

She wants to finish speaking, but all her subconscious lets her do is steady her breathing. Her second cough comes out sharp. She tries to lower her voice, but she cannot cover it up completely.

The blonde girl who is always by her side is the first to notice the look on her face. Paola lifts her hand to prop herself up against the table, but she can no longer stand steady.

The glass falls from her hand, letting out a muffled thump as it falls onto the carpet.

She falls forward, her body unable to support itself.

Some cry out, some rise to their feet, and some reflexively take a step back.

Before the attendants can rush to the scene, she has already collapsed by the table, no longer breathing, her lips taking on an odd hue under the lights.

The blonde girl babbles things like 'Paola!' and 'Help her!'.

The smile instantly disappears from Demetri's face. Czarek stays standing, but does not speak.

With the flash of chaos now over, the theater sinks into a surreal silence.

Moments ago, they were toasting things like 'fairness', 'dignity' and 'victory'.

But now, nobody reaches for the wine on the table.

The disturbance did not last long. Thanks to the mayor and some municipal staff among the attendees, the situation is quickly reined in.