“There are eels in there,” Sylin said. “I already checked. They smell good. I’m surprised passersby haven’t taken samples.”
Given how few humans Rylana had encountered who craved eels,shewasn’t surprised. Though the scents wafting out were more appealing than she would have expected.
“Why don’t you come in, and we’ll see if my new dragon employer will feed us?” Rylana waved for Sylin to follow her toward the hallway.
“As a chef, that’s his duty, isn’t it?”
“I get the feeling that, while hedoeswant the common man—and dwarf and orc and gnome—to experience and appreciate his food, his primary concern is winning the upcoming Golden Whisk.”
“The what?”
“It’s a cooking contest.”
“Huh.” Before entering the hallway, Sylin gazed around the storeroom. “Why are there so many of the same kind of appliances?”
“Ordering mishap, I understand. I’m going to help him refine his purchasing system—or lack of a system—and get rid of excess inventory. You aren’t in the market for a gnomish commercial oven, are you?”
“Not at this time. Your new employer sounds quirky for a dragon.”
“Yes.” Rylana peered into the kitchen as they drew even with it, though she could see Gniknik and Zalani seating people in the dining room and was tempted to head straight there. But the staff, as she’d learned the day before, ate in a back corner of the kitchen.Not certain how Jildarin would feel about Sylin joining her, especially when he had suggested several times that he didn’t findassassinsappealing, Rylana knocked on the swinging door before entering. “Mind if my friend joins us for breakfast? And by the old and new gods, your food smells amazing.”
Opening the door allowed them to enter a heavenly mixture of sumptuous aromas. There was the bacon, of course, but Rylana picked up the scents of herbs and spices, baked eggs, melty cheese, and other foods she couldn’t identify but longed to try.
“Yes,” Jildarin stated, barely glancing at them as he took pans out of the oven. For some reason, he was shirtless, revealing a lean but muscular physique, and Rylana blinked at the choice for kitchen work. Didn’t he worry about hot spatters? “For your friend, it is four coppers for breakfast. Only employees eat for free.”
“That’s fair,” Sylin said, waving that she had the coin.
Rylana was tempted to object, but, as Jildarin had pointed out last night, shehadonly worked one day for him. And a partial day at that. Once she’d fixed all the inefficiencies and his business was turning a profit, she would ask for more benefits. Like wages.
Inhaling deeply and with a pleased smile, Sylin hurried to stools at the staff table in the corner of the kitchen.
“Is there a reason you’re not wearing a shirt, Jildarin?” Spotting a row of hooks with chef’s coats and aprons dangling from them, Rylana pointed, offering to grab clothes for him. “After our conversation last night, I assume you’re not hoping to attract women.”
With a whisk dripping an egg mixture in hand, Jildarin looked blankly over at her.
“I thought not.” Rylana held up an apron in offering.
“When the bacon spatters in its pan, it flings droplets of grease that leave unappealing stains on my garments,” he said.
“Yeah, but that’s better than hot grease spattering your chest. That has to hurt.”
“Heat rarely fazes a dragon.”
“Let the chef cook topless if he wants,” Sylin murmured, waving to an empty stool, “and simply appreciate the show.”
Jildarinwasnice to look at without his shirt on—in all states, really—but Rylana was surprised Sylin would remark on it. She’d been devotedly single all the years that Rylana had known her, only indulging occasionally in one-night flings—oresylanta, as the elves called them—with partners that had been enemies as often as allies. Rylana had never pried. Even though Sylin had opened up more to her than most of the mercenaries, she had always been close-lipped on personal topics and spent more time alone than with others.
“I didn’t know you enjoyed looking at men with grease-spattered chests,” was all Rylana said.
“The grease is irrelevant. The chest is nicely symmetrical, muscular, and not overly hairy.”
“So, you’re in love.”
“I’mnot the one who spent the night in a storeroom with him.”
“Separated by crates.Manycrates.”
Jildarin had returned to whisking eggs and appeared oblivious to the conversation. He grabbed a pinch of a ground green herb to add to his concoction, then picked up a dish of chopped meat—or maybe some of the eels. As he focused on his work, Rylana decided he didn’t justseemoblivious to everything else but likely was, so she allowed herself, per Sylin’s suggestion, to admire the fine view.
