by Pirateaba
Erin was never coming back. She might be, but she could be hurt, or wounded. What if a monster had killed her, or her skeleton? Maybe it had shown its true colors and stabbed her when her back was turned, or simply abandoned Erin in the middle of nowhere. She could be dead! Or eaten! Or—
Lyonette imagined Goblins doing all the horrible things her [Governess] had told her about, or what she’d heard when eavesdropping on the palace staff. Erin might have run into the Goblin army. She could be dying right this instant.
That didn’t inspire Lyon to go out searching for Erin like that rude Ryoka had done of course. She wouldn’t know where to begin, and the Goblins had probably eaten her. Besides, Lyon didn’t owe her anything. Erin Solstice was a rude peasant who treated no one with respect and was too trusting for her own good. Anything that befell her was probably her own fault.
But Lyonette had to admit, the inn had never seemed so dark when Erin Solstice was around. And it had never been quite so…
Empty.
It was as if the life of the inn itself had gone with Erin. The day after she’d left, all the guests had stopped arriving. That may have had to do with the Goblins and the lack of any lights in the windows—Lyonette had stopped lighting the fire in the common room of the inn—but in an instant, the bustle of the building had ceased completely.
At first Lyonette had been impatient, waiting for Erin’s return. Then she had been afraid. Now, after many days, she was just…quiet. Lyonette sat in the inn day after day, only leaving now and then to fetch some water to drink or use the outhouse. But the longer she sat in the dead building, the more she knew something had to change.
It wasn’t a quick realization. If anything, it was a thought born out of several nights of sleeping with her back to the door, wide-eyed, flinching at any random sound in the night. It was finding Erin’s little money stash and realizing most of her gold coins had been given away to the Horns of Hammerad or on Erin’s person when she disappeared. It was staring at the empty pantry and feeling the small hole in her stomach where food should and always had been.
Lyonette had cried herself to sleep the first night she’d gone to sleep with her belly writhing with hunger; the next she’d just slept, too exhausted to even weep. Six days after Erin had vanished, Lyonette knew what had to be done. She looked up and watched another wisp of warmth vanish into the dark room of The Wandering Inn. She knew.
Erin Solstice wasn’t coming back. Or if she was, it might be tomorrow, a week from now, or months. Either way, if she was gone for even a little while longer, it would be too late. So. Lyonette knew what had to be done while Erin was gone.
She had to work. Or she would starve.
It was a foreign concept to Lyon in many ways, a hateful one. Demeaning. But it didn’t change the facts. She was running out of Erin’s coin, and she had even less food in the building. She had to work. Erin’s inn had sustained itself by selling food to customers; she had to continue that.
There were no other options Lyonette could think of. She couldn’t envision herself making her way north through the snow, and the Goblins—no. And she was banned from the city, so that left only the inn.
Again, this wasn’t a conclusion Lyonette came to willingly, but after two days of eating the last crumbs of frozen cheese and equally hard bread that was the last of the food in the pantry, Lyonette was desperate. That was how she found herself waiting at the door when Olesm, the Drake, cautiously broke his way through the snow to her inn.
“You! You there, Drake!”
He nearly jumped out of his scales when Lyonette threw the door open. She had seen the Drake come by the inn every day, or every other day at the latest. He usually just peered hopefully through one of the windows for a few minutes before leaving, usually quicker if he saw her face.
“Oh. It’s you. Um, Lyon, wasn’t it?”
Lyonette gave the Drake a big smile and deliberately refrained from correcting him on her proper name.
“That is right. And you are…Olesm, correct?”
“That’s right.”
The Drake coughed and looked into the dark inn hopefully.
“Is uh, Erin not back yet?”
“No. She hasn’t returned.”
“Ah. I see.”
The Drake hesitated.
“Well, I won’t be getting in your way. I’ll ah, drop by tomorrow, then.”
“No! Don’t do that! I mean—why don’t you stay here?”
“What?”
Lyonette opened the door a bit wider. The Drake blinked into the dark room, and Lyonette realized that he probably couldn’t even see inside.
“It’s a bit dark, but I’ll start the fire. You can stay and—and order something!”
The Drake looked doubtfully at Lyonette as she smiled desperately at him.
“But Erin isn’t here right now. She’s the innkeeper.”
“Yes, but I’m still here, aren’t I?”
“I guess you are.”
“Well then. Why not come in? Erin’s inn—is still her inn even without her, isn’t it?”
“That might be true?”
Olesm frowned. He looked backwards towards the city as if he was considering leaving, then he reluctantly shrugged.
“I guess I could stay for a bit…”
“Good!”
Lyonette nearly gasped with relief. She opened the door and the Drake stepped in. He shivered; the inside of the inn was scarcely warmer than the outside.
“It’s freezing in here! Why isn’t the fire on?”
“I…forgot.”
Lyonette pretended to fuss with some kindling in the fireplace. Then she struck some sparks with the flint and steel and the fire flickered into life. Olesm watched the small flames consume the shaved wood and begin to eat away at the larger sticks Lyonette had arranged in the fireplace as he stared around the empty building.
“It’s so dark. And gloomy. Uh, not that that’s a bad thing. I guess when Erin’s not here…”
He cleared his throat.
“Did—did you say you had something to eat? I wouldn’t mind a snack.”
“Food? Oh, now that you mention it—”
Lyonette turned as casually as possible and gave Olesm her best contrite expression.
“I’m sorry, but I forgot—there’s nothing left in the pantry. With Erin gone, there’s no one to go shopping.”
“Not you?”
The Drake frowned at Lyon. She hesitated.
“I can’t go into the city. I’m banned.”
“Oh yeah. Right. You’re the thief.”
“I—”
Lyonette hesitated. Then she slowly closed her mouth. She was the thief, even if she didn’t have the [Thief] class. She hadn’t seen herself as one, but the Drakes and Gnolls thought of her that way. She had to humor him.
“I am. That is right.”
She tried to look apologetic as possible.
“It’s all my fault, of course. I would go shopping, but I can’t. So there’s nothing to eat here.”
“Ah.”
The Drake just stared at Lyonette. She cleared her throat again.
“I don’t know what I’ll do without food. If I can’t serve people, how will I keep the inn open until Erin gets back?”
“You? You’re going to keep The Wandering Inn open?”
The look Olesm gave Lyon was full of disbelief. She gritted her teeth, but nodded.
“It’s my job. I am a [Barmaid] after all. And I’m Erin Solstice’s employee. She said so herself. And what sort of…help would I be if I didn’t keep her inn open and earn her money while she was gone?”
“I suppose that makes sense.”
Olesm frowned as he scratched at his chin. Lyonette nodded, the desperate smile still fixed on her face.
“So I need someone to help deliver food to the inn while Erin’s gone. I’ll pay of course—and you can eat here as well!”
“Wait, what? You want me to bring you food?”
The
Drake sat up in his chair and frowned hard at Lyonette. She nodded, keeping her eyes on him.
“You have to. Not cooked food; I’ll sell food here like Erin did. But you have to bring the supplies here so I can cook it. Or else I’ll starve. And you wouldn’t want that, would you?”
The Drake gave Lyonette a look that wasn’t quite as reassuring as she’d hoped. But he eventually agreed to find a way to get Lyonette more food.
“I guess I can make a few trips—but how will you keep the inn open? Without Erin, doesn’t this place lose a lot of its ah, attraction? Why would anyone come this far?”
“Why, because I’ll cook fine food of course, and serve people with grace and decorum!”
“Really? You?”
Olesm looked completely unconvinced. Lyonette ground her teeth, but she smiled at him.
“I do have a Skill in cooking.”
“You do?”
“Absolutely. And I’ve waited tables for nearly a month. You just bring the ingredients, and I’ll cook it. In fact, why don’t you bring some right now? I have money and a list right here…”
“Well, it’s sort of cold out—you mean now? What about—”
Olesm blinked as Lyonette thrust a sheet of parchment and some coins into his claws and practically pushed him out the door. She stared anxiously at him in the snow as he stared at the inn, and then watched him trudge slowly down towards the city, heart pounding all the while.
She’d done it! But the real test would be if he came back. Lyonette stared out the window at the faint shape of Olesm as he walked into the city, and then she sat at the window as the air in the room slowly warmed, staring fixedly at the gates.
It felt like forever and a half before she saw a burdened figure leave the city and start walking her way. It felt like even longer before the Drake struggled up the hill and exhaustedly dropped the packs full of ingredients on the doorstep as Lyonette flung open the door.
“Thank you so much for bringing everything here!”
“What? It was nothing. I mean, it was a bit heavy—I don’t suppose you have anything to drink?”
“I have to cook first.”
Lyonette was already busy opening the ties on the pack. Olesm nodded as he sagged into a chair.
“In that case, I could definitely use a bite to eat. Something hot.”
“Oh. Now?”
The Human girl stared at the Drake. He stared back.
“Yes. I mean, you are going to make food, right?”
“Of course. But—”
Lyonette hesitated.
“—I have to work on a few recipes first. Why don’t you come back two days from now? Then I’ll probably need some more ingredients. Or—you could return tonight if you want to buy something.”
The Drake looked indignantly at the bulging pack of supplies he’d brought.
“What? My meal’s not on the house?”
“No!”
Lyon glared at him. The Drake glared back.
“Okay, I guess I’ll come back later. I mean, if you’re not busy.”
“You do that. And remember, I’ll need more food soon! And tell your…friends. The Wandering Inn is open again!”
Lyon barely heard the door slam as Olesm walked out. She was too busy staring at the wonderful contents of the pack. Eggs, carefully wrapped to avoid breaking, fresh cheese—flour—her stomach growled uncontrollably and Lyonette’s hands shook.
Half of her wanted to scarf down everything raw, but she made herself drag everything into the kitchen and put all the ingredients away first. She had to do this right.
Almost mechanically, the girl pulled out ingredients and set them on the counter as the fire she’d started in the kitchen began to warm the air here too. She blew on her hands, ignoring her empty stomach as she prepared herself. She was going to cook. She, Lyonette du Marquis, was about to make a meal.
Hot shame and burning desire stole over her in waves, but the emptiness in her stomach quashed all other feelings. Lyonette stared at the ingredients and imagined something basic. Pasta. She remembered the lovely, buttery noodles Erin had served to her and the other guests in the inn one night. She could do that, surely?
Lyon had [Basic Cooking] as a Skill now, a fact that filled her with shame and privately elated her. It was the skill of a peasant, yes, but it was her Skill. It was hers.
That was how she found herself cooking with the flour, salt, eggs, and some water in the kitchen. Lyonette first mixed flour and salt together, and then made a divot in the mound of powder to add a beaten egg. Then she mixed in a beaten egg and squished the sticky mess together until it began to congeal. As if by magic, the disgusting mess of egg and flour became a different substance. Dough!
It was dough, the very thing Lyonette had seen bakers turn into golden loaves of bread! She stared at the small ball sitting on the counter of the kitchen and stared at her flour-covered hands in amazement.
“That’s how it’s done? It’s so…easy!”
She’d expected there to be some laborious process required, or a convoluted mix of ingredients. But this? Barely a few minutes of effort and she was nearly finished with her cooking! Part of Lyon was elated, the rest indignant that people paid [Bakers] and [Cooks] so much. There was nothing to it!
But Lyonette quickly realized she wasn’t done as her Skill prompted her to keep going. She had to knead the dough for several minutes, until Lyonette’s weak hands were cramping up a bit from the effort. Then, she had to find the rolling pin in one of the drawers and smooth out the dough. And then Lyon had to cut the dough into long strips, and then boil water.
That was actually the hardest part. Lyonette had of course gone to fetch water many times in the past for Erin, but she’d hated the duty and had done it as slowly as possible. Since she was making food for herself and she was alone, Lyonette had no excuse. She had to make two trips for water, and she was exhausted by the time she watched the water boil over the fire.
Then, Lyonette added the pasta and a bit of salt and watched the noodles swirl around as she stirred the pot anxiously. After only two minutes the pasta was done. Lyonette dumped the water outside and scooped the rest out of the pot, shaking it to dry the last of the water. Then she put it in one heaping mound on her plate and dug in.
In the lukewarm inn, by the flickering fire, the young [Princess] used a slightly-bent fork to lever the first mount of noodles into her mouth with a shaking hand. She bit, chewed, and swallowed, scarfing down the food almost too quickly to taste it. But she tasted the second bite, and the third, and her face fell with each new forkful of her pasta.
It couldn’t be. But it was. As the aching feeling in her stomach subsided, Lyonette slowly chewed the slightly watery noodles and knew the truth. Her food wasn’t great. It wasn’t even good. It was bland. No, worse, it was simply mediocre. True, she’d made noodles thanks to her skill, but they were a far cry from what Erin could now do.
Lyonette had been famished, but even she couldn’t finish the huge mound on her plate. After about two thirds of it she just sat back and stared at the pale mass of noodles, disgusted and disappointed in equal parts.
It wasn’t the same at all. She could remember the wonderful noodles Erin had made not so long ago—buttery and hot, and delightfully fragrant thanks to some herb. It had been delicious even without the meatballs. Lyonette’s mouth watered just remembering.
But this? This was just pasta, barely serviceable. It was a disgrace to any inn, and worse, it had come from a Skill. Lyonette’s Skill. Was this all she could do, even with [Basic Cooking]?
Lyonette wanted to cry again. This wasn’t fair. Why was her cooking this bad? She’d remembered ordering one of her [Maids] who had [Basic Cooking] to make her a snack, and while it hadn’t been great, it hadn’t been…this. What had she done wrong?
Then she remembered what one of her tutors had said on the rare days she’d been paying attention. Skills could improve one’s ability greatly and even give them the means to do thi
ngs they would never be able to do normally, like fish, work metal, or even fight. But a Skill improved on what was already there.
If two [Warriors] with the same Skills fought, the one who had trained longer and had more actual combat experience would inevitably prevail. Similarly, even with [Basic Cooking], if Lyonette had never made food, all her cooking would be just that: basic.
For two minutes Lyonette just stared at the cold plate of noodles, and then she heard a knock at the door. Instantly her body went rigid with fear and apprehension, but Goblins wouldn’t knock, would they? This wasn’t a monster, this was a guest. A guest!
She scrambled to her feet and flung the door open. Her mind was racing—was it too cold inside? She should have opened the windows to let everyone know the inn was open tonight! What about cooking? She couldn’t serve food to—what should she say? What was that Erin had always told her to say to new customers? ‘Welcome, please have a seat?’ or was it, ‘let me take your coat’?
The person standing in the doorway as Lyonette yanked the door open had no coat to take. A massive drake—far bigger than Olesm—blinked down at Lyonette as she stared up at him. After a moment, he coughed.
“Hey…you.”
“Um, welc—do you have a seat for your coat?”
“What?”
Lyonette turned red. The Drake scratched awkwardly at the spines on the back of his head and looked past the young woman into the inn. His eyes noted the single plate and dim fire before they returned to her.
“Is Erin back yet?”
Lyonette gulped. She vaguely recognized the Drake; he was Relc, the one Erin had thrown out of the inn earlier. But he was also a guest, wasn’t he? She tried to smile as welcomingly as possible as she opened the door a bit wider.
“Not yet. But would you like to stay and have something to ea—”
“Nope. See ya.”
The Drake turned before Lyonette had even finished her sentence. Desperately, she threw the door open to call out to him, but her breath caught in her chest when she saw the black Antinium standing next to the Drake in the snow. He’d been so still, so silent, she hadn’t even seen him at first.
