In the morning, once they’d finished eating breakfast, Lucas gave Adin a wish list of herbs and roots he wanted the man to find along with very detailed descriptions and asking Hura’gh to guard him in case goblins attacked. The noble protested and asked, “Why am I the one that always has to pick berries,” but Lucas blew him off. 

Maybe when you know how to do more than pick berries and complain, you can spend your time on other things, he thought. He didn’t say that, though. Instead, he just shot back, “because I’m doing more important shit, and someone's got to do it if we’re gonna cook, alright?”

The truth was that he wasn’t actually in a hurry to cook more blue just yet. They’d barely started spending money from their last windfall, and he didn’t want enough gold lingering for someone to get greedy. As long as they were still living hand to mouth, everyone was staying focused on what needed to be done, but as soon they got comfortable, that could fall apart. 

Lucas had long ago decided he preferred to work alone, especially when he was tweaking, and his paranoia was maxed out. If he had to have a partner or two, then he needed to think of it like a shark. A shark never rested comfortably or took a nap. They either keep swimming, or they died. This arrangement was like that, too, even if they didn’t know it, and Lucas was going to do his part to keep everyone so busy that they didn’t think about it. 

Of course, he also wanted a few things that had nothing to do with making more drugs. Now that he had his recipe book again, and he could rely on more than just admittedly faulty memory, he’d be happy to work out what it was he needed to make other interesting potions that they might be able to sell for a little money on the side. 

After all, despite the fact that blue made five times more than a good healing potion, it would be a waste of money and the chance to do more experimentation to leave other ingredients to rot. So, he’d make a few small batches of other potions and maybe learn a thing or two.

Hopefully, those assholes find some goblins, or I’m going to be looking for a substitute for that ingredient soon enough, he thought to himself as he organized his workspace. 

He wasn’t really sure if there was a substitute ingredient for such a complex recipe, of course. In theory, there was always the chance that there were ten more ingredients that would work just fine. Theoretically, as long as it was toxic, it might work, but in practice, it was harder. 

Through trial and error, Lucas had worked out a number of snake venoms and a couple of more common poisons because they all conflicted with at least one other ingredient. That was the problem, ultimately. A weak potion usually consisted of just two ingredients put together after being processed correctly. 

The man that had taught him alchemy when he’d arrived in this world liked to add all sorts of placebo ingredients that did nothing, but the didn’t seem to hurt anything either, most of the time. It was when you added a third real ingredient, or a fourth, that things started to go wrong. He’d gotten lucky in the prison cell, but probably only because all the ingredients were so nasty that no sane person would drink them. 

Lucas dwelled on those thoughts for hours as he tried to decide what he should brew up next, while he organized his ingredients into neat piles to grind and pulverize later. Sometimes he felt like he was forgetting something while he continued to make progress on deciding the best use for each little herb and mushroom, but since nothing came to mind he shook it off and kept going. 

These would be a healing balm, and those would be used to create a restorative elixir of second wind. Everything could be used for something, and the few herbs he hadn’t played with enough to write down a recipe for? Well, those were put in the experimentation pile. He was always down for an experiment or two. 

He honestly could have spent all day working on his little house cleaning project if Danaria hadn’t come and interrupted him. “Lucas, here you are! What are you still doing back here and why haven’t you come to the Manor?” she asked impatiently. 

“Was I supposed to?” he answered her question with a question. “I was just…”

His words trailed off as he suddenly realized what it was he was forgetting. “The fitting,” he breathed.

“The fitting indeed,” she said, stomping her foot in irritation. “Now, put on something nice, and we can leave. My carriage is already waiting and—”

“This is it,” Lucas said. 

“What is it?” she asked, confused. 

“This is the nicest thing I have at the moment,” Lucas said, looking over his stained and sliced shirt. A couple days ago, it looked pretty decent, but now it was almost as bad as his only other outfit. At least this one still smelled mostly clean. 

“That's… it?” she asked again in confusion. “Surely you jest. Have you no wardrobe? No baggage?”

“Sadly, I misplaced my carriage and my manor house, Miss Parin,” Lucas said with a smile. “Surely, my servants will be along any day to rectify the issue.”

“Your servants? Are you… Ohhhhh, you are jesting with me, aren’t you?” she asked with a smile tinged with a touch of blushing that made her look almost twice as pretty as she had the moment before when she was being cross with him and doing her best to feign seriousness.

“Guilty,” he said with a smile of his own. There was a little moment there between them where their eyes met, and their smiles matched. If she’d been someone a little less innocent, he might have put the moves on her. Instead, he let the moment pass and said, 

“Come on, we’ve got a tailor to see.”

The two of them walked to where the carriage waited on the front lawn. Lucas hadn’t seen it before, but it made sense for her to have it. Most of the nobility in Lordanin traveled exactly like this. He was less concerned about how they were getting there than where they were heading. 

“Are we going into the city?” he asked. 

“I didn’t think it was necessary, so I made an appointment with Mister Twee. He has a shop in Meadowin,” she answered almost apologetically. “He’s done many of my finest dresses, but if you wanted something more fashionable, I’m sure we could find something on high street or—”

“No, your choice will be just fine, thank you,” Lucas said, breathing a sigh of relief as he opened the carriage door. 

If they were only going as far as the village, it made even less sense that they were taking a carriage when they could walk or ride, but he was too relieved that he wasn’t going to have to roll the dice with the guards again so soon after his last disastrous trip. So, he didn’t complain. He just sat there quietly as he watched the road reel by while Danaria made conversation. 

She talked about the village and the tailor at first, but since it was a largely one-sided conversation, it eventually drifted to other things like the weather. Lucas nodded along wherever it was appropriate but mostly took in the beautiful weather and the contrasts between the woman’s dress and her carriage. 

The vehicle had obviously seen better days, just like the house and the grounds, but her clothing was nice and new. It was stylish even. She seemed oblivious to money matters, so he was left to wonder if she was wearing her floral print canary dress and matching hat and yellow slippers because she didn’t know how bad the house’s finances were, or if her brother spoiled her despite that. 

Lucas would have asked, but by the time he’d worked it all out, they were already in Meadowin’s market square, and the horses were coming to a stop. It had been such a short ride that he was again reminded that it was a complete waste of time. 

The shop itself was a simple affair, with a thatched roof and whitewashed walls, as were all the other buildings in the village. Inside, it was a little nicer. Bolts of colorful cloth hung from the far wall, and dummies with partially finished outfits were positioned near the window so they could be worked on. 

The proprietor was not immediately present, though. Instead, he was in a back room, tending to someone. Lucas couldn’t see who that was, but he could hear someone coughing. 

After a moment, the man came out and introduced himself. “Ah, right on time,” he said, even though they were clearly late. 

Lucas let Danaria make the introductions, but when she started to make excuses for his appearance, he took over and said, “I’m her cousin, Lucas Parin, from the Esterbrocken Parins, and on the way here to pay my dear cousin a visit, I was waylaid by bandits.”

“How, how dreadful,” the man said. 

Lucas wasn’t sure whether the tailor believed his story or not, but the man certainly acted like he did. Of course, he probably went along with whatever his paying clients told him, Lucas realized. When dealing with nobles, it was probably best to keep your head down. 

The three of them discussed fabric and styles for the next twenty minutes, and though Lucas didn’t have much of a preference, he pretended like he did. He would appear to act indecisive or talk about the current fashion at home before bowing to his dear cousin’s opinion. 

In the end they decided on 2 two dark suits in the modern style, 1 in a more archaic but fanciful style along with a dozen shirts and a few trousers in various shades of blue and black along with underclothes, pocket squares, and a few waistcoats and cravats. 

It seemed a bit excessive, but Lucas couldn’t deny that he had literally nothing to wear beyond two ragged sets of clothing now that his home had been thoroughly ransacked. All in all, though, it was barely more than a handful of dragons to replace a fancy wardrobe. 

Of course, eight dragons was a lot of money, and most of that would go to buying the materials. Still, if Lucas had to choose between a landless cottage, a new wardrobe, or two wagonloads of cheap beer, he knew which one he would purchase. 

It was an enjoyable enough game, and though Danaria almost gave it away more than once, she quickly grew used to it. It was only after he’d paid the tailor when it was time for him to strip to his underclothes for measurements that she excused herself. 

Lucas had never been to a tailor before. He was an off-the-rack sort of guy on Earth, so it was a new experience for him as the older man took his measurements one by one and made idle conversation while he jotted down the numbers. 

Once, during a coughing fit, he made Lucas stand there while he went and attended to whoever was in there, but other than that, the man worked quickly and efficiently. 

“So, how long do you think all of this will take?” Lucas asked, eventually, when he was finally getting dressed. 

“Oh, weeks and weeks, I’m afraid,” Mister Twee said. “Normally, I’d go faster, but with my daughter being so sick, well… I’ll try to have you something as soon as I can.”

Lucas nodded at that and said all the right things, but as soon as he was done, he quickly left the room behind to go find his so-called cousin so they could go home, and he could get back to cooking.