Lounging in the rather large room the Mayor’s aid, Mathilda gave us, I find myself baffling at how large it compares to the fancifully furnished shack back in Ioina, perhaps even larger than Garland the third’s personal bedroom.
It has a rather large and comfortable bed that could take in a third person if there was a need, the duvet is a bright red, a colour I find littered about the entire hall and the pillows are filled with the lightest of feathers, perhaps goose. The rest of the bedroom is simply a picture of luxury, with a large mirror embedded into the wall above a table and a sizeable wardrobe for clothes which Asher had but one.
All of this fit in to create a personal chamber in which I could walk about thirteen paces across the fluffy velvet carpeting.
With Asher gone to politick with Leriva, he’s left me bored to bones here in this large room with nothing to do and no corn to munch on. For whatever reason the sight and thought of the crop stirred a great hunger within me.
Which happens to be absolutely irrational given my dead state, I rightfully shouldn’t be able to feel hunger or thirst and yet, here I float, dreaming of sinking my teeth into a mountain of cobs.
Alas, there is nothing I can do to alleviate this craving, after all, Asher said to stay in the room.
Ah hell with it.
Giving in to my restlessness I let myself onto my feet, intent on wandering the halls of the…Hall in search of corn or someone who can give me corn, I decide floating about and burning mana or as I call it, Lifetime, wouldn’t be a wise move to make so early on.
Shuffling out of the room I am immediately posed with a challenge. Which way should I go?
Three routes lay in front of me, dead ahead or to the sides. They all look the same and I truly can say what the difference is. Exhaling deeply after playing blind with the choices and pointing the right I shake my head, dissatisfied.
Instead of going ahead with pure randomness, unlike a certain someone, I decide to head to where the kitchen or pantry would most likely be situated in this large Hall; Down the stairs and hidden at the back somewhere.
If this Leriva Mayor woman is truly a Noble then it is certain her food would be prepared out of her sights like any true Noble.
With my destination decided I head on dead ahead, until I meet the bottom of the stairs and know my guess was true. Immediately after landing at the end of the stairs and simply standing where that guard had Asher and I wait earlier; I begin to perceive a sweet scenting mixture of a variety of dishes.
Like a moth to the flame, I close my eyes and try to determine which one of the many doors behind the stairs I should go through. It isn’t difficult to find the right one. I push it open and I am greeted with a less fancy stairway, stoned, crudely made and certainly not carpeted.
There is a cacophony of noises, metal clanging and bubbling taking place at the bottom of these crudely made stairs. Looking down I find in all the smoke and soot puffing up from the piles of wood and coal burning underneath the pots bubbling with a delicious smell, in all this I find a beautifully shaped woman standing and hustling the others along.
Her shoulder length red hair puffed along with her head at the slightest movement and in this movement laid her fair neck to bare. I gasp and my feet move me forward and further down into the room of women cooking.
As I do so my presence is final made known to her. She turns, her deep blue short dress flows magnificently as she does. Disappointedly, I recognize her brilliant green eyes and ample pink lips.
“Yes, you sound disappointed.” She’s cocks her head to the side as she says this, scanning me. “Do you need anything, Sir Anselm?”
I puff my cheeks as I get over the disappointment of seeing her and resign myself to the fact that I would have eventually been disappointed even if it was her, “I was looking about for some corn.” I mutter.
There’s a silence between us and between the constant clanging and bustling of the women behind her. For whatever reason she keeps from answering me with a plater of corn and continues to stare at me.
I allow it.
“You’re a warrior, so you say.”
“So I am.” I rebuke.
He clears her throat and corrects herself, “So you are. But yet I never see you with any weapon in hand, even when you came in with Sir Taserman.”
Sir Taserman, that just sounds wrong.
“I have no weapon. Days of battle with the many foe we come across in our journey has stripped me of one.” It’s not a lie. The only thing I could have once called a weapon is now lost somewhere between Arak village and the cave Asher found me in.
“Huh.” Is all she says before turning to hustle the women along.
“If you would be so helpfully though,” I begin, “I’d like a spear, any spear will do, just something to grip in the hand and a sharp enough blade to render flesh.”
She smiles at me and for a moment I don’t care that she is the Mayor’s right hand.
“I’ll be sure to look into it. In the meantime,” a woman come to her with a steamy plate of corn piled into a pyramid and my eyes are saucers, “Make do with this.”
Excitedly I take the plate from her and bow. She chuckles and turns back to her work directing the women to hurry up on the desert for the Mayor and her guest; Asher.