(Dovakiin)

19th Eleasis, 20th year A.B. (After Breaching)

Dovakiin was exploring rooms in the Vance ground floor, when he discovered the cold room.

It was connected to the kitchen. He’d just walked into it, and had been surprised by the blast of frozen air that greeted him. The room was stocked with food, full to the brim, all preserved extremely well by the icy air. A little exploring revealed the source – permanent glyphs of freezing lined the room, emitting a constant gentle icy puff. Dovakiin whistled appreciatively. Glyphs like these must have been expensive to have installed. A single glyph would have likely run Lord Vance up a thousand gold or so – a little under 3 year’s wages for a common farm labourer.

The adventurer’s economy was really something. If you survived, you could become rich. The original Vance must have been extremely successful at what he did. Dovakiin was surprised that he’d never heard of the man. It must have been a long time ago when the guy was on the adventurer’s circuit.

However, the cold room gave Dovakiin an interesting idea. He had a quick search of the food in the room. Butter. Sugar. Lemons. He knew where to find flour in the kitchen. He could see a few other ingredients too.

It wasn’t Dovakiin’s first time in a cold room, and his wife had once taught him a recipe that required a room like this.

He grinned a wide, devious, toothy grin. It was time for a little bit of team bonding. Nothing like team bonding to help you get to know your companions a little better.

***

“Master Dovakiin,” the servant said, “I brought you Mistress Marion, just like you asked.”

“Thank you, kind Miss,” Dovakiin said graciously. The servant bowed, and left the kitchen. Sure enough, Marion was there, looking at him suspiciously. Her automaton manservant was in tow. He’d never seen her without him.

“Why are you wearing an apron?” Marion asked. Dovakiin noted that Marion herself was dressed impeccably. She never had a hair out of place, and her dress was carefully pressed.

“Marion,” Dovakiin declared, “I have made you a cheesecake.”

Marion’s eyes narrowed. “…Why?”

“It is a delicious cheesecake. I made it myself.”

Dovakiin looked proudly at the cheesecake in the tray before him. It maybe wasn’t quite as good as Percoria would have done, but it looked delicious to him.

“It’s lemon,” he added proudly.

Marion glanced at it dubiously.

“I suppose I can have it later…”

“No,” Dovakiin said, “I insist you have it now.”

Marion looked back to him, surprised at the firmness in his voice.

“Why-”

“Marion,” Dovakiin said, “I have spent all morning cooking you a delicious cheesecake. I created the base. I whisked. I zested. I spent over an hour simply sitting by the door to the cool room, excitedly waiting for the mixture to set. And now I want to see the fruits of my hard work. I want to see you eat some of this delicious cheesecake.”

Marion looked uncertain for a moment, but just as Dovakiin had suspected, there was a twinge of anxiety to it. This girl did not like the idea of offending. For all her haughtiness, she wanted to fit in.

So now would be the moment of truth.

She looked at him. She looked at the cake. “I suppose I can have a small piece.”

Dovakiin watched her intently as she picked up a fork. He cut her a generous slice.

She broke off a piece. She looked at it.

The lemon zest did look very nice, thought Dovakiin.

Very carefully, she took a dainty bite.

Dovakiin watched her face.

She watched him watching her, then swallowed.

“Dang it,” Dovakiin said. “You can eat.”

Marion’s brow furrowed in confusion. “…Of course I can eat? Why is that even a question?”

Dovakiin felt a little embarrassed he’d said his thought out loud. “I mean, I just wondered, as it occurred to me that I’d never seen you eat before. You always went off on your own at meal times…”

“So you thought, what exactly? That I couldn’t eat?”

“Well…”

Yes. Because you’re not human.

“What kind of creature can’t eat? Did you think me some kind of vampire, bound only to drink blood?”

She was scornful, with just a hint of mocking. Dovakiin began to feel defensive. “I mean…”

“Don’t vampires burn up in direct sunlight? Didn’t you meet me in direct sunlight?”

“Ok, ok!” Dovakiin knew that he was beaten. “I admit it, it was silly! I just… never mind!”

Marion gave him one last eyebrow raise, smirked, then picked up the plate with the slice of cheesecake.

“I’ll take this with me. It is very delicious,” she said.

Dovakiin had the sinking feeling that he was not going to live this down.

***

(Marion)

Marion entered the room, closed the door, then threw the cheesecake in the bin.

That was close.

Glancing at her torso, she sighed. Getting that piece out was going to be messy. It had looked very sticky. Sugary things often were. But there had been no choice. Dovakiin had been watching too closely. If she hadn’t swallowed, he may have suspected. He’d sensed her hardened skin. He was putting pieces together, and that couldn’t be allowed.

No, if Marion was to survive, then no-one could know the truth. She glanced at her automaton servant. He stared at her impassively.

She sighed again. The panic was fading.

The mask was still on. For now.