Chương 62: A Meal Fit for A Lady

For a moment, we were all stunned silent. Eventually, Marnie asked in a stuttering voice, "She… What?" Ysra nodded." Hmm, yes. She wants to sacrifice herself to save her dear-ole Daddy… sorry. And that is why she abandoned you in the mist. Left you out there. Kind of cold, really—and people say I'm cold."

"No, people say you're heartless," Sable replied.

"There's a difference." Ysra placed a hand against her heart and feigned being wounded. The bindings around Marnie broke apart, and she stumbled forward slowly. Her face had gone pale, and her hands trembled at her sides. Pointing toward a glass of tea, she asked, "Do you mind?" Ysra proffered a hand. Marnie nodded, picked up the cup, and drank quickly. Steam curled around her face as she emptied nearly half of it in one go.

"So if Fenna is back in the castle," I asked.

"Then why are we here? Can't we just… wake up?" Ysra waved me off.

"Oh, I have some redcaps moving your unconscious bodies to the castle as we speak. I had to wake your cow so she could carry you all." I glanced over. Moolisa was gone.

"So we're all propped up on a cart being dragged by a cow?" Ysra nodded.

"… Hilarious." There was a sharp crack of glass. Before I realized what was happening, Marnie had shattered her teacup against the table. She held one jagged piece against Ysra's throat.

"You say this is a dream, but everything feels so real. What would happen if I cut your throat right here? Right now?"

"Marnie, what are you—" Ysra smiled as she whispered, "Go ahead." With a sickening slice, Marnie dragged the broken porcelain across her throat from ear to ear. Ysra stood and thrashed. Blood poured from the wound. It got everywhere. Across the table. Across the cobblestones. Across her already red clothes. It splashed almost as if it were less like blood and more like water, soaking everything within reach. She lifted her hands toward the sun, then turned them toward me, Vaelith, Darwin, Marnie, and finally…

Sable. Sable simply glared at her as she said, "Stop playing around." Suddenly, the blood stopped. Ysra gave Sable a sidelong glance.

"You couldn't at least go with it for even a moment? Come now, where is the Sable I knew when we were kids? You'd have thought that joke was hilarious."

"That Sable is dead. She died at least sixty years ago."

"Spoilsport," Ysra murmured. She straightened. Suddenly, there was no blood at all. No stains on her clothes. No wound across her neck. Even the heavy metallic smell vanished from the air. Marnie dropped the broken cup. It shattered into even more pieces against the pale cobblestones.

"I'll find a way to kill you, witch."

"Get in line. Your Lordling wants me dead. My dear Sable wants me dead. And now you…" Ysra sighed dramatically.

"I wouldn't be surprised if the gods themselves wanted me dead. They saw fit to curse me with this damnable system, after all."

"Wait," I asked.

"Your system. You dislike it?"

"No, no, no—not yet. Not the time. No more questions. I, for one, am starving." Ysra clapped her hands together.

"You should be in the castle proper now. I had the redcaps move you all to areas I think you will find… entertaining." She flourished her hands.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, everyone, and now… I'll see you on the other side." She snapped her fingers.

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. My eyes snapped open.

"Master Rook," a voice said, proper and punctual, not unlike a butler. I turned to see who it was—and immediately vomited. There, now covered in bile, stood a redcap. It wore traditional butler-like clothing: a fitted black suit with a crisp white shirt beneath it. Its red mushroom cap rose into several pointed ridges, almost resembling a crown. Slowly, it drew a handkerchief from its breast pocket and wiped itself clean.

"Lovely," it said.

"Nice to meet you as well, sir."

"Sorry," I replied, wiping my mouth with my sleeve. I took stock of my surroundings. It was a relatively small room. Like a closet. Shelves stretched from floor to ceiling, packed with glass jars, clay containers, sacks, and bundles hanging from hooks overhead. As I looked closer, I saw that many of the jars were filled with… parts? Monster parts. Some I recognized from my own recipes. Some I had absolutely no clue about. A preserved eye floated in one cloudy jar.

Something resembling a claw sat submerged in another. Bundles of dried herbs hung between strings of what looked suspiciously like teeth. Then I realized something. This wasn't a closet at all; it was a pantry.

"Master Rook," the redcap said.

"My name is Mildew Sporington, and the lady of the house, a Miss Ysra Hollow, has charged me with being your personal butler or helper, whichever you prefer." I shook myself off. Standing, I realized I was wearing different clothes. Soft linens. Loose-fitting and comfortable. Even slippers.

"Where are my clothes?" I asked.

"And why are we in a pantry?"

"Your clothes are in the wash. Dreadful, smelly things. As for your second question, the lady of the house wishes you, Master Rook, to prepare a meal for our guests tonight. In total, there are seven, including yourself. Would you like me to name them all—""—No," I replied, doing a rough count in my head.

"No, I think I got it." I looked around the shelves again.

"And what makes the 'lady of the house' think I'm going to become her personal chef, even for one night? And you—you're a butler. Why don't you cook the meals?" Mr. Sporington bowed low, his crown-shaped cap nearly striking me on the shin.

"Forgive me, Master Rook. I offered, but my lady rebuked me, saying that what I cooked always tasted like dirt. Besides, she has a keen interest in your class and system. Few can make use of monster parts in such a… creative way."

"Yeah, she mentioned that," I grumbled. I pushed open the pantry door and stepped into the kitchen. I stopped. It was huge. Commercial-kitchen huge. Long counters stretched across polished stone floors. Copper pots hung in orderly rows from racks overhead, while knives, ladles, pans, and other tools filled the walls. Several magical appliances sat along one side, powered by softly glowing crystals embedded into their frames. I recognized many of them from Stoneford. Cold-storage boxes. Heating surfaces. Ovens.

Even running water fed through a stone basin. I must have been wearing my shock on my face because Mr. Sporington chortled.

"It's quite the space, is it not? Alas, without much of a sense of taste, we redcaps do not possess the knowledge or skill required to create worthwhile dishes for the lady of the house. It is our limitation to bear." He brushed a speck of dust from one sleeve.

"She takes most of her meals in dreams, so that she may imagine the tastes of her home, long lost to time—""—Enough of that," Ysra said. She stepped into the kitchen. She was wearing much the same outfit as before, right down to the crooked witch's hat. I pinched myself.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Seeing if I'm still asleep."

"I can bring you so deeply into a dream that you can feel pain."

"Ah," I replied.

"Then… am I? Still dreaming, I mean?" Ysra stepped forward and poked me in the forehead.

"Nope. Not dreaming."

"Lady of the House," Mr. Sporington said, "I must insist that you allow Master Rook to prepare your meal without bother." I clicked my tongue.

"Sorry to tell you, Mr. Butler, but it won't work. I need to kill the monsters myself or, more recently, one of my party members has to. I can't use anything here. So unless you have some regular ingredients…" I gestured toward the shelves.

"And even then, I wouldn't consider myself a professional chef by any means." Ysra ran a finger across my chest. Then whatever dramatic effect she was going for was undercut when her stomach growled loudly. Continuing as if her stomach hadn't betrayed her, she said, "No need to worry, Glutton. Here, in my castle, the rules of the System are… different. Some are set in stone, but others can be bent." She gestured toward the pantry.

"I assure you that anything you use here will work as intended."

"Okay…" I replied, not quite sure what her game was. For now, I figured I'd play along.

"And what did you want me to make?"

"Dealer's choice," she said.

"Or should I say… give me the chef's special." Ysra turned to walk away.

"Wait!" She turned back.

"My party—my friends—are they safe?"

"Yes," she replied.

"They are quite safe."

"And I'm just supposed to take your word for it?" Ysra rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers. Suddenly, Darwin was sitting in her hand.

"I had banished this little bugger because he was pestering me with questions about you. If it will make you happy, I'll return him to you."

"Master!" Darwin said happily. His wings buzzed as he fluttered across the kitchen and landed on my shoulder.

"Fine," I said.

"I'll cook you a meal. I'll cook all of us a meal. But afterward, we're going to have a real discussion and come to some sort of agreement regarding Marnie, Fenna, and Sable. Do I have your word?" Ysra smiled.

"I have longed for new and interesting cuisine. If you can make me something worth eating, then we will talk in earnest." She bowed her head slightly.

"You have my word."