“Certainly. Begin when you wish, but where is your elf comrade? I’ve been told there will be two elves among the judges, so I desire to test my fare on her palate as well.”
“She had to leave, and her name is Sylin.”
“You did not introduce me to her, so it is not a cultural error that I do not know how to address her.” Jildarin pointed his spoon at Rylana.
“That’s fair. I didn’t think you’d want an introduction or to formally meet someone who was a mercenary with me and… may have targeted your kind during the war.”
“I did not even wish to formally meet you.”
“But now you’re delighted to have made my acquaintance, right?” Rylana smiled at him.
“How many gnomish commercial ovens did you sell today?”
“I haven’t closed a deal yet today, but I did propose to Mya herethat she could use a new one. She already has one, though, so she needs to think about it and consider her books first.”
Mya, who had lifted a couple of her cloches and was sniffing the food with appreciation, didn’t answer.
Jildarin squinted at Rylana. “I will determine whether or not I have delight over your acquaintance after you judge the food. Sit, Miss Rylana.” He patted the empty stool beside Mya, then walked toward the doorway and peered left and right down the hall.
“That’s the first time he’s used my name,” Rylana mused.
“What does he usually call you?” Mya removed the rest of her cloches and set them aside, revealing more of a tasting arrangement of small dishes than a traditional meal, but there was plenty of food to fill a belly.
“Sometimesbookkeeper.More oftenmy enemy.”
“I suppose if you’d shot me, I might have a similar appellation for you. One surrounded by more adjectives.”
“It was during the war.”
“Miss Zalani,” Jildarin called toward the dining room. “I require you for a tasting.”
“He doesn’t usually call hermissanything, that I’ve heard.” Rylana removed her own cloches and stacked them nearby. “Maybe he’s learned the human custom of flattering the judges.”
“That’s a custom amongmostof the intelligent species, I believe.” Mya picked up a spoon and pointed it toward a tiny bowl. “Do you think that’s one of his legendary soups? I’m not sure if I dare try it. With my husband passed, I don’t have anyone available to, ah, satisfy my urges. What if I’m moved to spring upon the goblin male who stole my sample tray?”
“I haven’t tried any of the dragon spices myself yet, but I’m not sure any herb, magical or otherwise, would be capable of making a sane woman spring upon a goblin.”
“Therearesuch beings as half-goblins in the world.”
“Yeah, but that usually goes the other way, with human mendeciding they want to experience a green lover. Human women are more reasonable.”
“Nonetheless, I may avoid the soup. If you’re willing to defy the chef’s wishes, tell me what you rate it, and I’ll put the same.”
“I haven’t decided yet ifI’lltry it.” Rylana lifted her tiny bowl of soup to her nose. A tantalizing, rich aroma of herbs and spices she couldn’t identify wafted into her nostrils, immediately making her mouth water. And was there a hint of bacon in the soup? That seemed to be one of Jildarin's signature items, and she’d enjoyed every bite he’d offered thus far. “Maybe just a spoonful. To satisfy my curiosity.”
“Shall I let the goblin know to prepare himself for atypical human ardor?” Mya smirked.
“It’s Rolf, and I’mnotgoing to get horny from a spoonful of soup.” Since she’d seen the results when others had consumed the dragon spices, Rylana supposed it would be arrogant to believe she couldn’t be affected herself. “Notthathorny, anyway,” she amended.
“Do you want me to hold you back if you go after him?”
“Dear gods, yes.” Rylana dug into her meal, deciding to save the soup for the end. If dragon spices were like alcohol, they would be less potent on a full stomach.
“What is it, Chef?” Zalani asked when she joined him in the doorway.
Jildarin waved her toward the empty stool. “You will take a break from your serving duties to eat and judge the food. You are only ahalf-elf, so I do not know if your palate will be indicative of the preferences of full-blooded elves, but I do desire a wide range of people to taste my offerings. Perhaps I should also bring Gniknik back, but gnomes deliberately do not allow their kind to apply as judges in the Golden Whisk since they strive to be neutral parties in potentially contentious matters in their city.”
“I do hate when cooking contests get contentious,” Rylana said.
