Chefs and bakers tend to stick together in an army camp—outside of one too, come to think of it. In the camps, it's because we keep different hours than everyone else. Up earlier and asleep sooner, but we also got done with our day sooner too. Work for me was over by 2 PM, and I was out, lounging on the beach with my friends exactly 20 minutes later. The chefs weren't off for the day, but they had a long break between lunch and dinner.
“No fucking way,” Rupert—who we call Ru because no one can say Rupert without laughing—declared. “You're so full of shit.”
“I'm serious.” I gave him a look to convey my honesty.
Our group was mainly composed of chefs, only Evan was a baker like me, and chefs are on the crazier end of the culinary spectrum. I don't know what it was, if it was working with fire and knives all day that did it, but they are some hardcore freaks, and it takes a lot to freak those freaks out. Me saving the Falcon Lord did the trick.
“No way,” Rachel whispered.
“Yep. And he came to talk to me this morning in the baker's pavilion,” I said.
“One of my cupcakes mentioned something about the Falcon Lord visiting the baking pavilion,” Evan confirmed, nodding to the others. “He kicked all of Shane's cupcakes out so they could speak privately.”
The cupcakes Evan referred to weren't delicious baked goods but our baking assistants; it's what we call them. Evan baked for the masses, so we didn't work in the same pavilion, but my assistants often went back and forth between his and mine, fetching supplies for me from the stock Evan kept. They must have gone straight to Evan's tent when the Falcon Lord booted them from mine. And cupcakes talk to other cupcakes.
“The Falcon Lord hunted you down and kicked everyone out of your pavilion to talk to you?” Tod asked in amazement. “What did he say?”
I cleared my throat, knowing they wouldn't take this well. “He wanted to share his soul with me. You know, try to make me a valorian.”
“I thought you had to be dying for that?” Vanessa asked.
“Yeah, I did too.” I waved a hand toward her in kinship. “Evidently not. The process heals most wounds, so it can save someone who's dying, but it doesn't have to be done when a person is on death's doorstep. Or so he told me.”
“You asked him?” Tod gaped at me.
“Hold on.” Evan held out his arms to stop everyone. “If he offered to make you a valorian, why aren't you one? Are you one of those duds that only got extended life?”
“No.” I cleared my throat again. “I told him no.”
“You what?!” They all shrieked together.
The guards in the nearby watchtower looked over at us with scowls.
“Shh,” I hushed them. “I don't want all that, okay?”
“All what? The immortality, a hot body, or the Falcon Lord?” John, the only other gay guy in our group, asked in amazement.
“Yes,” I said.
“Are you fucking out of your mind?” John shrieked. “Fuck, tell him I'll take your place. Sign me up for a fae makeover and the hottest guy in camp.”
Everyone laughed, but it was in a horrified way.
“Really?” Evan asked me. “You told himno? The fucking Falcon Lord?”
“Think about it; sure, I'd get immortality, more muscles, and, possibly, him for a little while. But that guy isn't going to settle down with anyone. I've seen the soldiers stumbling out of his tent in the morning, and they're always different from the ones the night before.Andhalf of them are women.”
“So what?” Evan asked. “Make the guy fully gay. Win one for the G-Team. I believe in you.”
“That's just it.” I nodded toward him. “I don't. I'm not that good.”
“Says Mr. Sweet Eyes with his guitar,” Rachel teased me. “Just sing him one of your songs, and he'll be eating out of your hand.”
“For a few nights. Maybe a week.” I shrugged. “Then he'd be right back to eating pussy instead.”
“As if that man has to eat pussy,” Vanessa huffed.
“We don't do it because we have to.” Tod smirked at her. “We do it because wewantto. Hell, I'll lick you right now, baby. Spread 'em.”
