Henry descended the stairs the next morning, the aroma of fresh coffee already drifting through the café.
Alina was at the counter, her head resting on her folded arms, looking like she'd been there for a while. She lifted her head as he approached, blinking sleepily.
"Morning," she murmured. "They're all here. Cooks are in the kitchen. Some Waiters are yet to arrive though."
Henry glanced toward the kitchen door, then back at her. "And what are you up to?"
"I'm resting." She straightened, running a hand through her hair. "Today's the mock trial, right?"
"Right." Henry nodded. "We run through everything—full service, no mistakes, no excuses. If something goes wrong, we fix it now, not on opening day."
Fischl had already arrived and was standing near the window, her posture rigid, her hands clasped behind her back. She was dressed in her usual dramatic style—dark fabrics, elegant lines, an air of theatrical mystery that surrounded her like a cloak. When she spotted Henry approaching, her chin lifted slightly, as if preparing for a performance.
"Ah, Henry," she declared, her voice carrying that familiar grandiose tone. "The fates have conspired once more to bring us together in this realm of culinary endeavor."
"Good morning to you too, Fischl." Henry's grin was warm. "Ready for training?"
"Mein Fräulein has been prepared for this moment since the stars aligned to guide her path—"
Henry grinned. "So you've been thinking about me?"
"Excuse me?" Fischl's composure cracked. "The Prinzessin has done no such thing—"
Oz ruffled his feathers. "Mein Fräulein has been talking about you constantly. She was disappointed you didn't do more commissions with her after the Hilichurl camp. She may have mentioned it several times."
"Oz!" Fischl's face turned crimson. "You traitor! You were not meant to reveal such—"
Henry's grin widened. "You missed me that much, huh?"
"I did not—that is—the Prinzessin does not—" Fischl sputtered. "I merely found your presence... tolerable."
"Tolerable." Henry nodded slowly. "I'll take that."
"I am merely stating the truth, Mein Fräulein. You said it yourself—"
"I said no such thing!"
"You said, and I quote, 'It would have been most agreeable if the Henry had graced us—"
"OZ!"
Henry laughed. "I'm sorry, Fischl. I've been busy with the café. I will definitely invite you the next time I do battle commissions."
Fischl's blush deepened, but she managed to regain some composure. "Well. It is... acceptable. I suppose."
"I'm glad." Henry turned as the door opened again. "Ah, Mona. Perfect timing."
Mona swept in with her characteristic grace, her hat perched at a jaunty angle, her expression one of practiced mystery. She looked around the café with an appraising eye, taking in the arrangement of tables, the soft lighting, the warm atmosphere.
"Henry," she greeted, her voice carrying that familiar air of knowing something others didn't.
The door opened again, and a young man stepped inside. He was quiet, his movements unhurried, his expression calm.
"Adrian," Alina greeted. "You're here."
Adrian nodded. "Ready when you are."
Mona glanced at him. "You're the third waiter, aren't you?"
"That's me," Adrian said.
Fischl tilted her head, studying him. "The Prinzessin observes that you are a man of few words."
"I save them for when they're needed," Adrian replied.
Mona's gaze flickered to Adrian, then to Fischl, then to Alina, then back to Henry. "So. What's on the agenda for today?"
"Training," Alina said, stepping forward. "We did one session previously while Henry was still handling things in Liyue. Today, he's running the show."
Mona raised an eyebrow. "He's training us?"
"He knows how cafes work," Alina said simply.
Henry clapped his hands together. "Alright. Let's get started. Today is all about practical service. I'm going to run you through different scenarios—different types of customers you might encounter. Your job is to handle them professionally, politely, and efficiently."
"Different types of customers?" Fischl tilted her head. "Such as?"
"Everything from the impatient to the indecisive. The picky eater to the chatty regular. The complainer to the foodie who wants to know every detail about every dish."
Mona folded her arms. "And what do we do if they're... difficult?"
"Be polite and professional," Henry said firmly. "Up to a point. If a customer gets personal, crosses a line, or irritates you too much—you have the authority to kick them out. No one should tolerate harassment or abuse in this café."
Mona's eyes widened slightly. "We can do that?"
"Absolutely. I won't have my staff being treated like doormats. You're here to serve food and drinks, not to tolerate bad behavior."
Fischl nodded, her expression approving. "A noble stance. The Prinzessin approves."
"I'm glad." Henry walked toward the nearest table and sat down, gesturing for them to follow. "Alright. First scenario. Let's see how you handle the impatient customer."
Henry adopted a new posture, leaning forward with an exaggerated expression of irritation. He tapped his fingers loudly against the table, his eyes scanning the room with barely concealed annoyance.
"Excuse me," he called out, his voice sharp. "Is anyone going to take my order? I've been sitting here for ten minutes."
Fischl stepped forward, her chin held high as she handed the menu to Henry. "I apologize for the delay, sir. Welcome to Crossroads Café. What may I bring you this morning?"
Henry settled back into his chair. "I'll have the Jade Dew tea and the Bao Buns."
Fischl scribbled on her notepad. "An excellent choice. I shall bring it to you forthwith."
She turned and walked toward the kitchen with measured steps, and Henry allowed himself a small smile. She's good.
Henry raised his hand, and Mona approached, handing him another menu. "Welcome to Crossroads Café, sir. What may I bring you today?"
"I'll have the Midnight Espresso. And make it fast."
"Of course." Mona wrote it down with practiced precision. "And would you like anything to eat with that?"
"Just the coffee."
"Very well." Mona turned toward the kitchen, her movements graceful.
Fischl returned from the kitchen with his order, placing it on the table in front of Henry. "Hope you enjoy the meal, sir," she said before walking away.
Henry tasted the Bao Buns—they were good. He sipped the Jade Dew tea. "Umm. Excellent. My complements to the chef."
Fischl returned from the kitchen soon after with a steaming cup of coffee.
Alina sat opposite Henry, taking the coffee and sipping it. "This is great. Our chef team is well trained."
"They are," Henry replied.
The training continued. Henry cycled through the customer types one by one.
The indecisive customer was hard for Adrian—he had to repeatedly explain the menu without showing frustration. Henry kept changing his mind, asking about every dish, then ordering something completely different.
"I'll have the Bao Buns," Henry said, then paused. "Actually, no. The Onigiri. No, wait—what's the Golden Milk Tea like? Is it spicy? Actually, never mind. I'll just have the Black Rock Tea. But with extra cream. Actually—"
Adrian's eye twitched, but he maintained his composure. "Sir, you can take your time to order. Please gesture to me when you are ready to decide."
The picky customer was Fischl's challenge. Henry demanded modifications to everything—no meat, extra sauce on the side, less sweet, more sweet, and finally, "this isn't what I ordered."
Fischl's expression remained composed, but Henry caught the slight tightening around her eyes. "I apologize, sir. I shall have the kitchen prepare a new dish at once."
"You should have gotten it right the first time."
"You are absolutely correct, sir. I will ensure your new order is prepared exactly to your specifications." Fischl's voice remained polite and professional, though her posture was just slightly stiffer than before.
Henry nodded, impressed. "If they complain rudely or returns the dish a second time, just throw him out."
All three nodded at Henry.
Then came the flirtatious customer.
Henry leaned forward, his voice dropping to a suggestive tone. "You know, you're much prettier than the food. How about you skip the order and we talk a bit more privately?"
Fischl stiffened, but Adrian stepped in, his voice cold as he turned to Henry with flat eyes. "Your order will be ready shortly. If you have any further... personal comments, I'll ask you to leave."
Henry dropped the act, grinning. "Perfect. Good Teamwork! That was exactly what I wanted to see."
Henry and Alina put on a show of various customers, with Adrian, Mona and Fischl acting professionally throughout the afternoon. They handled complaints, special requests, and difficult questions with composure.
When the mock trial finally ended, Henry walked into the kitchen. The chefs looked up from their stations as he entered.
"Everyone," Henry said, "you handled everything well. The timing was good, the taste was consistent, and you stayed ready."
Siegfria beamed at the compliment.
Diane allowed herself a small smile. "The waitstaff did most of the work today."
"Norma kept us in line," Beatrice added.
Norma nodded. "It was good practice."
Henry nodded. "That's exactly what I wanted to see. Great work, everyone. You handled everything perfectly." He paused, a grin spreading across his face. "How about we have a staff party this afternoon? My new request—just cook some snacks from the menu and bring them out."
Later that afternoon, the staff gathered in the café. Siegfria, Diane, Beatrice, Norma, Mona, Fischl, Adrian, and Alina all sat together, enjoying the snacks and café drinks, the atmosphere light and celebratory after a long day of preparation.
"Good work," Henry said, raising his cup. "All of you. You handled everything well—the different customers, the difficult questions, the pressure, speed, taste. And that was only a fraction of what you might face when we open."
Mona nodded, her composure mostly restored. "The mock trial was... helpful. I feel more prepared now."
Fischl's chin lifted. "The Prinzessin is ready for whatever trials may come."
Henry smiled, then raised his voice. "I think we are ready to open the café day after tomorrow."
Everyone cheered in celebration, the sound filling the café as they mingled with each other, savoring the snacks. Alina thanked the chefs for creating the party dishes, and Henry, Adrian, Mona, and Fischl chimed in with their own words of appreciation for the extra effort.
Mona sidled up to Henry, her voice low and curious.
"So," she said, "you and Alina share the café building, don't you?"
"We do." Henry tilted his head. "Why?"
Mona's eyes flickered toward Alina, who was busy arranging something near the counter. "I just remember that time I walked in on... well. You know." Her cheeks flushed slightly. "With Alina. That day."
Henry's grin widened. "You mean when you thought you saw something you shouldn't have?"
"That was—you were on her bed!"
"She had a roach."
"You were on her bed while she was in her undergarments!"
"We've established it was a roach."
Mona opened her mouth to argue, but Alina's voice drifted over, smooth and knowing. "Are you still hung up on that, Mona? I told you the first time, it was a roach."
Mona's blush deepened. "I—no—"
"Because if you want details, you can just ask." Alina walked over, her smile sharp. "I can tell you everything."
Mona sputtered, completely undone. Fischl watched the exchange with wide eyes, glancing at Henry with a strange expression.
___
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