The nymph presented a plate of white asparagus with mousseline sauce upon the Restaurant De Les Bolgrof’s newest piece of furnishing. 

A hill giant’s tree, now requisitioned as a dining table.

Doing her utmost to ensure the dish’s stability, she slowly took a step back, before fidgeting like a misbehaving child as she awaited the judgement of her most valued customer.

I duly obliged.

Leaning down, I inspected the dish as I would any served by the Royal Villa’s three kitchens. A high barrier. And yet there was nothing likely to leave a highly concerning abyss in my memory, and thus my initial impression was favourable.

After a moment, I nodded and chose not to toss it through the window.

Mostly because there wasn’t one.

“Sufficient,” I declared. “You may relay to the chef to include this in your new menu. Ensure that the cracked pepper is coarser in the final product. It is as much garnish as it is seasoning. You may begin preparations for the next sample.”

The nymph let out a sigh of relief.

Then, she bounded away to see to her work, her enthusiasm offset by the lack of a single bow of reverence. A dereliction of duty as poor as when she’d failed to offer any cutlery with the dish. But she was no maid and this was not the Royal Villa. 

It was a cave. 

For now.

Because tomorrow, it’d also be my kingdom’s latest asset!

Ohohohoho! 

A restaurant overseen by a hill giant, whose boundless appetite and innovation were both fed by the magic of a nymph!

Why, even in this palpable wilderness, such an eatery would be certain to draw the crowns and curiosity of visitors from afar. Especially when those within sweated sufficiently to ensure it would happen.

Beside the cauldron, great dollops of the stuff could be heard dripping from the hill giant’s brow as he used a branch to stir his cauldron.

The contents now bubbled merrily, the flames beneath emboldened with the royal stamp of authority. A far cry from the cold and emptied pot as he was found readying to depart, knowing that one way or another, his time as a freeloading squatter in my land would be coming to an end. 

Now, the cave was filled with the aroma of my genius at work. 

When answering to my magnanimity, all burst into life like a fresh faced stagehand called to their part.

Yes.

The vagrant would not be evicted today. Not while there was room to make amends for his tax shortfalls. And while that began with an entrée of asparagus, it ended with a stream of crowns into the Royal Treasury’s vaults.

And that was the finest dish of all.

“Ohoho … ohohohohohoho … !”

Raising my hand to my lips, I offered a sweet laugh at my own foresight.

Indeed, it took more than soap to see my kingdom flourish. 

Not a lot more. But some things were required. 

As much as I enjoyed emptying the coffers of the Adventurer’s Guild, there would come a time after they were banished to irrelevance where saving a tabby in a tree would not even garner a copper crown.

And in preparation for that joyous day, I would help build this kingdom to even greater heights and even more diverse income streams!

To witness the searching claws of poverty flicked away in even the smallest ways was worthy of the highest joy. And here, I saw a glorious opportunity to invigorate a part of my land devoid of any statues to my family.

True, a restaurant was no bathhouse running to the horizon … but no matter! 

I had little doubt that the prospect of dining in a restaurant manned by those often only found in the bleakest outcrops, then served by a highly overly talkative nymph was one which held great promise.

“A wondrous sight, no?” I said, ignoring Coppelia’s hand as it subtly reached for the untouched asparagus. “The lack of furnishings leaves much to be desired, but those without a taste for finer fare will doubtless come flocking to sample the novelty. And while they taste navarin d'agneau printanier, my kingdom shall taste the joy of their crowns … ohohohoho!”

Coppelia waited to see if I was going to object to her prodding of the food.

I didn’t. And so she picked up the entire dish, before proceeding to gobble it down in defiance to both manners and the need to chew. 

She nodded, not bothering to even wipe her lips with the back of her hand as she let out a note of satisfaction. I picked up her arm and did it for her.

“Mmh, novelty tastes good! Much better than the nice pastures and pristine woodlands around here. However–”

“However … ?”

Coppelia put on the closest thing she had to a look of seriousness.

I was, well, slightly appalled that I only witnessed this when it came to food.

“If we’re talking entry into the Coppelia Guidebook, you’re going to have to hand me a few unsolicited pouches beneath the table first.”

“Your efforts at opening yourself to bribery are commendable, but fruitless. The standards of commoners are poor enough that far more common publications than the … Coppelia Guidebook will endorse the menu on offer.”

“Hey, don’t read those ones! They’re terrible. In fact, I bet none of them will mention that even though this is definitely ‘omnomnom’ worthy, it’s not ‘ohohoho’ worthy. That’s a totally different level of classification.”

I winced.

Her laugh was still something which needed to work on. And given the lack of progress in its use as an important tool to denote her high station beside me, one gradually rising in priority.

Soon, I’d need to clear out an afternoon and put my quest on hold in order to instruct her on its correct application. A necessary pause. 

“Mmh, mmh~ Eating something made by a hill giant is great and all, but I’m not sure if it’ll bring in a whole bunch of crowns. Repeat customers are picky. Take this from someone who never visits the same place twice.”

“My assumption was that you are never a repeat customer as you are subsequently banned from everywhere you visit.”

“Ahahahaha~”

Hmm.

Curious. 

She laughed. And yet didn’t correct me.

Yet another thing not to think about.

“Yes, well, regardless … were it only tonight’s fare on offer, I’d be inclined to agree with your assessment. However, this particular hill giant has a significant advantage over his competitors.”

“Not having to scrub chairs?”

“No.” I promptly pointed at the other member of staff. “Her.”

Focused solely on her new calling, the nymph’s eyes blazed with admirable purpose.

She swept back and forth in the background, retrieving what was required for the next recipe from the bundles of outrageously sized vegetation now prepared like bales of hay in a barn. All of which came from her.

Indeed, this was no ordinary nymph.

I knew it at first glance.

The size of the chickweeds. The robustness of the asparagus stalks. The uniformity of the watercress.

Though I was hardly an expert on druidic magic, even I was aware that gardening … no, farming on this scale was far beyond the abilities of any regular nymph. 

And this meant … an opportunity to be exploited!

“This nymph, whoever she is–”

“Tralalina.”

“Excuse me?”

“I think her name’s Tralalina. That’s what the <Tralalina Super Deliciousness Spell☆> is about. Try saying it!”

“I’m not saying it.”

“Boooo~”

“Regardless, her magical prowess is notable. As is her ignorance to it. A curious thing. Within the depths of her solitude and severe lack of social connections over the years, she’s clearly honed her abilities in ways beyond all conceivable measure. I believe this nymph has utterly no idea of her true strength. Why, the obliviousness is astonishing!”

Suddenly, Coppelia’s smile became very still.

She craned her face towards me, eyes unblinking as she became a still life portrait. An understandable, if unnecessary reaction to my talent scouting.

After all, even if others had caught sight of the unusual prowess on display, few would have also had the presence of mind to immediately make full use of it. 

“Ohoho … your thoughts are correct, Coppelia.” I nodded and smiled, placing my hand upon my chest. “I do not merely permit this cave’s usage out of hope and charity. Instead, I offer a chance for those with prospects to display their worth.”

Indeed! 

Just as the nymph nurtured the chickweeds from the earth, so too did I nurture her ability to go from growing bundles of asparagus today to valleys of sweet cabernet franc, petit verdot and black malbec tomorrow!

A curious turn of events. I certainly hadn’t expected to find a proving ground for new prospects in a cave. But I was hardly one to eschew promising talent. Especially when it came to developing new industries in this poorly utilised part of my kingdom.

Eventually, Coppelia snapped back to life.

“Yes. That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

I offered her a warm smile, then made sure it was removed in time for the hill giant’s coming.

He swept over, the fire beneath his cauldron dimming. Despite his large frame, he moved with notable grace, his footsteps respecting the peace demanded by his clientele. And also his benefactors.

“Your notes regarding the cracked pepper have been received,” he said, towelling the sweat from his brows with his forearms and achieving little in the process. “You’ve my gratitude.”

“Excellent. I hope to see that gratitude in an easily digestible form in the near future.”

“And you shall, fortune permitting. Truth be told, to have the Restaurant De Les Bolgrof see the light of day in any land is an opportunity I’ve never been offered. It is a rare thing not to be hounded away like a wolf to a flock.”

“Then you may rejoice. Because so long as the nymph proves her farming skills to be as promising as the eye suggests, you may have leeway to indulge in your craft.”

The hill giant nodded. I eyed the droplets of sweat warily. From a distance of several footsteps away. And increasing by the moment.

“I’ve yet to apologise to the nymph,” he said, his voice quieting to make it even less likely. “An unusual one, that much is clear. And highly … talkative. But her stock of produce is of the highest grade. I never would have entertained the thought of having one supply me, nor to do so as a waitress.”

He chuckled, though the laughter never fully reached his eyes.

“Frankly, I’ve half a mind to think that we’ve both been enchanted.”

“An unnecessary concern. Rest assured that no spell may pass by my shield of superior wisdom and beauty. Were an attempt made to enchant me, I would know.”

The hill giant seemed to pause before responding.

Why they did that, I would never know.

“Ahem … well, if I may speak about matters unrelated to the next recipe. There is something I wish to query regarding financial remuneration.” 

“Oh? What is that?”

“As you may already be aware, hill giants consider the culinary arts a matter to be freely shared.”

“A matter granted solely at the discretion of those who own the land where any culinary art was illegally sourced. But yes, please continue.”

The hill giant did not continue.

He did, in fact, look remarkably fidgety. Even more so as he attempted a brave smile.

“Yes, uh, well, while your wish for all derived profits to be directed to … to the kingdom, you said?”

“To the kingdom, yes.”

“Right, well, while your wish for all profits to … the kingdom has no bearing on my activities as a purveyor of the arts, a voluntary donation for our time and experience is traditionally–” 

“No.”

The hill giant’s shoulders sagged.

I deemed it could sag some more.

“My beauty and wisdom is infinite. My magnanimity is not. That you are not provided the remuneration you claim not to even require is no injustice. It is recompense for all the crops and livestock now unaccounted for in a trail which I’ve little doubt my loyal handmaiden could find were she to simply jump.”

“Within our society, it is–”

I raised an eyebrow, threatening a tenth of a scowl in the process.

The hill giant stopped at once. A wise decision. 

That they possessed better charisma and considerably more mass than forest bandits neither excused nor lessened their vagrancy. I took a dim view to any suggestion that their nomadic nature somehow precluded them from paying for goods. If trolls could seek gainful employment, then so could they.

I waited for the subsequent cough. For the allusions to great changes in history and culture that they as travelling gourmands had somehow collectively achieved over the ages. Especially when offered stipends for their craft like circus acrobats. 

Instead, the hill giant looked meekly aside. 

Because no matter how tall his stature, I was a princess. And within my kingdom, my shadow stretched over all who wished the joy of residing in it.

“Would you, um, like to sample the next dish … ?”