“It so *munch* gwood!”

“...slow down,” Euca said pursing at the used to be a pristine tablecloth. The solemn white now a solemn mess. Dollops, greases, bits. All were sticking, —sprawling litters and stains as the ravenou— sorry, the poor starved girl devoured the whole spreads.

It was both half-amusing and half-terrifying. The sight of a fourteen years old munching drumstick a third of her arm length in half with just one bite was not something you saw every day.

All right, maybe in cartoons, ...or anime, ...or a particularly disturbing ad that only had three seconds to catch people attention. On there reality was not what real. Reality was just what the animator thought was funny/attention grabbing/selling.

But in real life? It just ...unbelievable. Seeing her like seeing car crash frame by frame. Like witnessing an army of college students marching —stomping a poor, newly opened all you could eat, where a sweet forty years old something man who just starting to venture out to the business world, betting all his lifesaving for a chance trying to escape the 10 hours workday with alternating weekend on-call, met the reality of uncaring, unempathetic, rule-abusing bastards who thought that all establishment bigger than a pancake stall must be ran by big corporation. Thus the little guy, they named themselves, by the virtue of their comparative smallness, could rose above annoying sentiment such as guilt or even basic human decency. And all that, all that, was done, achieved, championed, by emptying that sweet, honest man whole stock of shrimp that meant for the whole day’s operation in just two freaking hours!

Huft, huft, huft.

Ho—hokay, he might a tad bit overreacting there... The girl just that — hungry. And it was his responsibility to feed her. Since, he, you knew, summoned her here. But he meant, could she at least slow down? It just, just so painful, looking that between those big bites, she somehow —somehow, still managed shoved two spoonfuls of saffre mash!

He felt the old man’s tears and pain. He felt his aching throb spreading, cavorting by his pocket as the bone bits —cartilages bitten to crush, snapped-sucked clean marrows, empty plates, and empty bowls all were growing heap by heap. Mountaining in front of him in defiance of everything holy.

The only reprieve that the foods and his poor, poor purse seemed to be getting were when the girl downed a full cup of water between three bites. A brief three-second break that changed nothing. He even suspected that she did only to make the whole devouring, sorry, 'eating' more efficient.

“Are you sure you’re not full, Clar?”

He said, trying to inject some measure of rest to the whole ordeal. Even if only for his eye to refill his silently shed tears.

“Nu-uh. Clar can eat more! Two— No! Three more, master!”

She said. Which he responded by a defeated nodding. He meant what could he do? Perhaps that how interdimensional travel was. Famishing. Energy consumptive.

Although sipping from his cup, he wondered how many percentages could be accounted purely to the part of replenishing the said consumption and how much could be assigned to the fact that the girl just liked, sorry, passionate about eating. Glancing to the left of the kitchen side, to the smoke that had been wafting for an hour straight now, he hoped that the latter should account for at least half.

He’s definitely cutting her salary…

Not to mention… the… the… overtime! His conscience demanded that he must give the maid overtime. Also bonus. Since the overtime came totally unannounced. Twice already he heard a loud shout, Jeane telling Doris to fish another pot of water from the cistern.

The cistern which located outside of the kitchen and back of the mansion. The dark, slippery, almost bitingly cold cistern in the middle of freaking 8 pm.

If this were ought to be routine...

His mind which terrified by the horror it implied, overclocked a financially feasible scheduling in record time. It shortly determined that if Clar kept eating like this… he ought to schedule earlier dinner preparation. Which will cut the overtime pay, he hoped. By doing the cook time in the afternoon and keeping the food warm in some rune-fashioned storage, Clar could have her ‘extended dinner’ with a relative chaper price.

Also, he needed to look, or remember why she was eating like this. There must be explanation in [Chronicle]! He didn’t want to force the maids working so late. While it true that their contract didn’t specify working hours, (a really, really big loophole) he wouldn’t force them to work 24/7. That just inhumane. The night’s weather also been awful. Freezing as winter day and tepid as summer’s wet.

Last, the maids rest day. Namely what ought he do when the maids, inevitably, needed to rest. All he got was how he should just stocked up some fresh or ready to eat produces —fruits, jerkies. Alternating those with a full meal should give the maids enough break. Should be a solution enough or not. He didn't knew!

For now though, he should pay around thirty —well, fifty silvers per person.

Although considering the cost, should he—

SLAM!

Uh-oh.

He gulped. Freezing at the echoing, thrashing slam. The rattle of plates hitting each other filled the dining room loud. The already silent night, turned even more so. Hush descended even from the busy kitchen. With only crackle of fire and the munching sound of the oblivious girl dared to accompany the pounding trolley.

It stopped with screeching halt. Front of him and with halting speed. He smiled at the woman of course. A mix of actual thanks and feigned obliviousness.

Just a little tat of pretend, he thought. Pretending he didn’t know anything. So nod with smile, wide as jaw. Everything was okay as far as he saw.

That his housekeeper currently banging the bone-filled plates? That she was trashing it loud on the trolley slates? That wasn't something that worry him! That simply how people were! Few eccentricities and filled with idiosyncrasies.

Also. he reminded himself aloud. It wasn't his fault. Not entirely, fairly. Of course, he’d be the first to admit that he summoned her and all that but… hmm… but people should not dwell on spilled milk?

That and people ought to focus on what important and not what had been done.

Yes, yes. Those.

See? Optimism!

He nodded to himself satisfied. He had a plan, he shouted trying to convince himself and the imagined tribunal of his own mind. He had a plan to move forward from stupid mistake!

Folded hand, smiled all smile. Soft glazing eye bright with one of brotherly affection —not that dastard longing his vacant resting stare tended to creep toward to.

See, it was fine. Everything was fine.

All the used dishes were cleaned, stored. The jug refilled. The bits and drops that could be picked, picked. All was well.

That these —these were simply water under bridge. That Mrs. Crombe realized that a good master-servant relationship was built by one’s strict adherence to duty and knowing of one station—

CLANG!

The porcelain plate, the second serving of the roasted whole couchee, downed on the table wood, hard.

Nothing. Nothing was above common decency! Especially if it involved children!

The plates and his mind shouted. His housekeeper stared him in the face. Her eyes was twisting the proverbial knife right through his chest. Accusing. Judging.

Look, look he defended himself to and from himself. Perhaps she didn’t intend to. Perhaps his nice housekeeper glared simply because she had a not so good day and seeing a gnat landing on his face, wanted to help his employer by smacking it.

See! That a very perfectly understandable explanation that require no further tangent of probabilities explored. Everyone had their off day. What? The plates clang? Accident of course! That fowl weigh maybe around half of kilo or so. That heavy,

She glared because she cared. The roast just an accident. Oh all was well. This was simply a misunderstanding and not—

Clang! Clang! Clang!

—intentional...

Oh, who was he fooling? Himself that was. He knew his housekeeper’s sturdy hand. The woman was able to serve dinner without so much of a clink. The most he ever heard was a slight rustle in the linen. And that only happened when she was in hurry.

He sighed. In his mouth of course. Not publicly. It’d be worse to admit mistakes. First, because he did not intend to do what Mrs. Crombe alleged him would do. And second—

“—FOOD!”

Because the recipient —the center of this conflict was totally not getting the whole dang implicative subvert. That him, a young man which she called ‘master’, had brought her, an underaged opposite gender, back to his home unaccompanied on the dark of the night.

So here he was sipping from his cups, nibbling the fresh nips. One gumption at a time, trying to sideline the implication as he hoped that the girl would finish her meal soon.

Although looking at her wide, sparkling eyes, his heart knew that tonight would be a long night.

“Brutha’ eh?” said the weird man, inching closer to master. Normally, Clar would stand beside master when strangers like the weird man coming. Especially suspicious strangers Clar hadn’t known before.

Clar was a good [Guardian]! Ready to protect master at all cost. From the cradle light, a lantern born! Sword and Shield ready to be drawn! Cool right? That Clar’s motto, Lillith said.

However, Clar felt protecting master here was totally unnecessary. This place was great! The food even more so! She didn’t need to worry about master here~ Not at all!

Compared to places master love to visit this was like the time Clar was still on the cradle. She meant she already imagined the worst when master told her to be careful. Like another run on the fire rocks cave again. Brrr...

Luckily it wasn’t, which Clar was very, very glad. Like glad she could laugh for two minutes! Clar hated fire rocks cave. The stupid melted rocks set her shoes on fire! Not once, but twice!

What so great about shiny rocks anyway? They couldn’t be eaten... Clar knew, Clar tried! But master like rocks. Square rocks. Circle rocks. Even the weird spiky rocks. So, she often forced to visit those scary places, guarding master.

This place was not like that at all. Worrywart master! What was to be afraid of? There were no bad bridges collapsing under their feet, there was no smelly gas from the sticky gross water, Clar could not even found one of those annoying crawlies which love to bother master when he collected his shiny rocks!

Also did Clar mention that—

NOM!

—the food here was so good!

Too bad master said Clar could only have five plates! Saying something silly about too full for dinner. Silly master, Clar could eat twenty more plates!

“*cough* Clar, Clar…”

“Mmm? Yessh, Mwaster?”

“*Sigh*, swallow your food first.”

Clar nodded, obeying master odd instruction. Clar was going to finish the food of course! Clar wouldn’t even dream of wasting the delicious food! Not when the *mhhm* crunchy sweet vegetable so tasty!

Swallowing the last bites, Clar realized that she just finished her fourth plate. Uhh, only one plate left, Clar sighed, looking at the empty clean plate. However that sad thought was quickly forgotten as Clar eyes drawn to the thick piece of juicy, delicious meat. Mmm! Clar could almost taste how delicious it would be—

“Clar, stop…”

“....aaah?” she said. Her forks already stabbing the meat.

“Stop eating first…” master said. Oh no! Master was using the tones that he only used when Clar did something bad. Did she? Did Clar do something bad? Clar just eating food...

“Come on Clar, we have things to do.”

“B—but, master!” Clar wavered between not disappointing master and the thick meats in her fork. The delicious sauce dripping, inviting, as if saying, come on Clar, just one more bite. One more bite.

“...ugh, Barna, do you mind wrapping the roast?”

“Na at all! Come on li’l Cla’,” said the weird man inching closer to Clar. She looked in disbelief as the man took up her fork —and the meat with him. Before Clar could slash his stupid hand though, the man already pulled two brown papers and—

“[One fer’ Each: Gud se’vice Rend’rd!]”

—trapped her food inside!

“Thank you Barna. Come on Clar, you could eat your roast when we get home,” master said as he picking up the prison paper! No!! Master!!! That was Clar food!!!!

Master didn’t care though, he kept walking, bringing the food in his hand. Leaving the food room which the now sad Clar followed.

“So, how long ye had lear’ tha’ sword, Cla’?” said the weird man disturbing Clar's sadness. No. Clar judged. Epiphany came to her. The man wasn’t weird. He was sneaky. Yes! The sneaky man. The sneaky man who stole her food!

“Hmmph!” She threw her face to the other side. Running down to master side, pursing her lips.

“Haha! I like her, Ooca!”

“...thank you.”

“Altho’, what do ye even thin’ bringing ye siste’ ‘ere, she’s clea’ly too li’l! Aren’t ye tha resp’nsible one?”

“...haha.”

Master looked uncomfortable as he talked to the sneaky man, his eyes kept looking at the floor, at the ceiling. Did master hate talking to the sneaky man? Clar did too. But Clar was angry, not ...afraid.

Did the sneaky man somehow threatened master? But he so weak! Clar didn’t even need her sword to beat him. Just a punch to his stupid knees would do.

“Are you sure?” another voice popped. breaking Clar thought. Looking up, Clar realized that master had been talking to another person, this time it was a woman who stood behind a wooden desk. The woman was looking at master then at Clar then at master again. How Clar doesn’t notice her? Is she getting weaker?

“Yes,” master answered, nodding as if oblivious to the Clar question.

“Alright young man, it’s your money. Minor self-repair was free, however even the smallest partial one will cost you twenty silvers per bell. Barna, do you mind?”

“Na at all, Res. Come, Cla’, Ooca.”

Clar can’t get weaker, Clar barely useful after all! Master only brings Clar because crawlies are annoying. Not because master can’t handle them. Master fought Titan! Clar had to hide on the lantern!

Does this place really have something bad? Why Clar hasn’t felt anything then? Ah! Clar must be fooled. Like when Clar got trapped on the swirly water room. That’s why master warned him before! Stupid Clar didn’t take master word seriously!

“Welcome to the training room F.”

Clar’s head snapped. Looking in horror when she realized that the sneaky man had opened the room door without her noticing.

Her fear came true! In front of her was a towering stone golem, his red bright eyes stared menacingly to master.

Clar jumped without hesitation.