Pansy’s lips peeled back around a grin that was all sharpness and teeth. “What? Afraid I’m going to do a better job than you? That my ‘ugly’ salad will taste better than whatever you were going to come up with?”
They snorted. “You’re delusional.”
Pansy cocked her head to the side. “Am I? Shall we make another bet then? If I’m really as ‘delusional’ as you say I am, this’ll be an easy win for you.”
A beat. “Fine. I’m listening.”
“Right. So, if I manage to make a warm mushroom salad that’s good – not just edible – with the ingredients you’ve laid out here, the kitchen becomes my exclusive domain. That means you leave it exactly as you found it every time you use it. No weird changes and definitelyno dirt.”
“And what if you don’t?”
“Then I’ll leave the kitchen to you and promise not to bother you from now on when you cook. Call it your safe haven.”
“From annoying halflings?” Ren asked, arching a brow.
“From me,” Pansy clarified. “If any other halflings choose to annoy you in there, that’s on them.”
Ren’s eyes narrowed. “You better not be planning on siccing your friends on me.”
Pansy barked out a laugh. “I don’t think I could pay anyone in all of Halvenshire enough to come here for the sole purpose of pestering you.” Except maybe Blossom. Though she suspected her best friend would help her for free.
“Hmm.” Ren fell silent for a moment, considering. Then: “All right. I’ll take that wager. But I’m staying here to supervise. I don’t want you wasting food out of ignorance.”
“I’m perfectly capable of figuring out flavor profiles myself,” Pansy said with a huff.
Ren remained dubious, dismissing her words with a pointed roll of their eyes. Pansy might’ve found it insulting had their skepticism not ultimately been to her benefit. Unwilling to simply let her loose on the bounty they’d laid out before her, Ren insisted on explaining each of the ingredients, describing not just their flavors, but also how they were normally used.
Oilflute. Sugarfern. Beechmoss. Lichenberry. Pansy couldn’t believe how many there were. What had once been nothing more than a tangle of strange weeds and foliage had unfurled into a fresh source of inspiration, seeding beneath her fingertips a desire to cook so great she could barely stand it. And not just because she wanted to win this latest bet.
To think that goblin cuisine, something she’d never givenmuch thought to until now, would awaken in her that same sense of wonder that had seized her the first time her mother had brought her into the kitchen as a young girl.
“This is going to tasteamazing,” Pansy said as she poured the mushrooms, now dressed in a mixture of vinegar, oilflute and lichenberry – the closest thing Ren had to a lemon – into a hot skillet alongside the peeled chestnuts. “Honestly, the smell is already making my mouth water, and the mushrooms haven’t even started to brown yet.”
“Whatever you say,” Ren grumbled, their scowl now more pronounced than ever; no doubt because they agreed. Pansy had seen the way their nostrils had flared when the skillet let loose a cloud of savory steam, a tantalizing prelude to the symphony that would soon follow. Victory – or defeat, in Ren’s case – would never taste better.
While the mushrooms continued simmering away, Pansy quickly chopped up some garlic and threw it into another bowl with some oilflute, vinegar and a yellow, tomato-like vegetable Ren had called ambervine. “This will be our dressing,” Pansy explained as she mashed everything together, acutely aware of the way Ren seemed to be scrutinizing her every move – now, more so than ever.
“This is a lot of ingredients for one meal,” Ren murmured, their eyebrows dragging low across their forehead.
“Is it? I think it’s a pretty simple recipe, actually.”
“I wouldn’t have used most of these…”
“Then I’m glad I could give you some much-needed instruction.” Pansy grinned.
Seeing that the liquid the mushrooms had released had finally cooked off, she tossed the finished dressing into the pan. A couple more stirs, enough to ensure that everything wasproperly coated, and she took the pan off the heat. “Now, to put everything together… Ready to eat your words, Ren?”
“Just shut up and serve the food already,” they snapped, arms snaking across their chest. “I can’t believe you had the nerve to complain aboutmebeing slow…”
“Ooh. Is someone a sore loser?” Pansy teased, delighting in the hateful look Ren shot her way. “You should be grateful. After all, you still get a delicious meal out of this.”
Granted, “delicious” turned out to be quite the understatement. Glorious was more like it. As the first bite crunched between Pansy’s teeth, crisp lettuce marrying chewy mushrooms in a salty, sweet ceremony that was both familiar and new in equal parts, she found herself overcome with a sudden unshakable sense of certainty.Thiswas what she’d been searching for.
“Wow,” she murmured, lips parting around a swell of awe, bright and airy, like gossamer. “This tastes amazing.”
Ren, meanwhile, said nothing. They didn’t have to. The tip of their fork, resting against their lower lip, seemed caught between two competing impulses: the first, to keep the flavor, still clinging to the utensil’s points, on their tongue; and the second, to prevent a second bite.
“So, it’s my win, then?” Pansy asked, her expression overwhelmed by a near-face-splitting grin.
