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I frowned, “I…I don’t know.”
“Trust those instincts. They’re good.” Lear told me, then asked, “Do you want me to chop the potatoes too?”
“Uh, yes, Try two inch pieces.”
“What are you making?”
“Oh, um, roast chicken with potatoes and carrots, and rolls. Is that alright? You’re not vegetarian or anything?”
“No.”
“Any allergies I should know about? I’d hate to kill you with my cooking.” I grimaced.
“No. I’m not picky either, given I can’t cook.”
“It’s a good skill to have.” I told him.
“I’m sure. I may be skilled in many things, but I’ve burned enough food to know that it’s one area I’m not inherently gifted in. Cutting vegetables is easy enough, but actually cooking is more difficult.”
“Well, I guess not everyone can be good at it. How’d you survive so long if you can’t cook? I guess your spouse does the cooking?”
His green cat eyes blinked, “I’m not married. I have kitchen staff.”
“Oh.”
It was quiet for a few moments. I finished chopping up the carrots, and began to work on some rolls.
After a little while, Lear brought the potatoes to me, “Here.”
“Thank you!”
“You’re welcome.” he nodded, drifting back to the table and sitting again.
“Kitchen staff. Must be nice.” I mused. So he was wealthy, then, wealthy enough to have at least kitchen staff. That meant more than one, had it been just one, he’d have said he had a cook. Something told me that, if he had kitchen staff, he likely had even more servants. Goodness, what must he think of my simple little life here at my cottage?
“Yes.”
“This must be quite a change of pace then.” I murmured.
“You’re not wrong.” Lear replied. “But it’s peaceful here.”
“Well, normally it is. It’s been a bit lively here the last couple of days.” I sighed.
“That’s my fault. Again, I’m sorry.”
“Jedda’s barn burning down was hardly your fault.” I scoffed, shaking my head a little.
“I wonder about that though.” He said thoughtfully, getting up to stand beside me, leaning against the counter once more, arms crossed.
“What do you mean?”
“He said his farm hands insisted that no lamps had been left on. So how did it catch fire? It wasn’t as if there was a thunderstorm where lightning could have struck the structure.”
“True.” I shrugged.
“And I got the sense of a fey about them.”
“Oh, that’s what you were getting at. Why not just lead with that?”
“Well, it could just be coincidence. Fey folk do live everywhere, whether or not anyone else realizes it.” Lear shrugged.
“Do you think a fey person caused the fire?”
“It’s possible. Jedda and his son-in-law smelled like smoke, given they’d been helping fight the fire, and the smoke’s presence had a slightly magical feel to it.” The fey man let his voice trail off.
It was quiet for a few moments.
“If…if there’s a chance that fey folk caused the fire, whether maliciously or otherwise, we need to warn Jedda and his family, so they can keep an eye out and hopefully keep it from happening again.”
“That would be wise.” he nodded.
“But without proof, I’m not sure they’ll believe me. I know we’re close, but given we’ve always thought there weren’t many fey folk around here, without proof I’m not sure they’ll really buy it.”
“Having a fey person on your arm would go far to convince them, I think. I’ll go with you.”
“Are you sure?” I looked over at him.
“Yes.”
“Then we’ll go tomorrow. I don't want anyone else getting hurt in any more fires.” I told him, putting the pan of rolls into the oven to bake.
“Of course.” Lear nodded.
I pulled off my apron, “Dinner will be ready soon.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I don’t always feel like cooking, and sometimes just kind of eat whatever, will you be okay on those days? You’ll be welcome to raid the cold box and the pantry, of course.”
“I’m not always at home with my staff.” he snorted, “And when I’m away, I still manage.”
“If you say so.” I shrugged.
It was quiet for a few moments.
“Where are you from?”
“I live in the forest of the feylands.”
I frowned a little, going to sit at my loom and starting to work. “You’re pretty far from home. What took you this far north?”
“Orders.” he replied.
“Orders?” I blinked, realizing what that meant, “You’re a soldier?”
“Yes.”
“What orders were they?” As far as I knew, no humans had really had military dealings with any fey for a very long time, and there had been peace between the human and fey crowns for centuries now.
Lear was quiet for a few moments. “I was sent to deal with an errant member of my kin.”
I could read between the lines. “An assassination mission?”
“More or less.” He shrugged, coming and standing behind me. The fey man reached out and touched the top of the shawl I was working on, which was still attached to the loom. The six long fingers on his right hand danced lightly over the rich blue fibers. “You have clever hands.”
My face heated, “Thanks.”
“What’s it going to be?”
“A shawl. I’ll infuse it with some magic, warming or healing, with Diana’s help, and take it to town to sell. I’m going to do that with more than just this one. I have several more already made and ready to be enchanted.”
“I can see how they’d be popular.” he nodded.
“I’m trying to save up for a new stove. Dern, he’s a dwarf who lives in the village, has some that are magical, like the heating stones, and I’d really like one.”
“Is there something wrong with the one you currently have?”
“The legs are starting to rust, the front of the oven has already fallen off several times, and I’ve had to rig it up in order to keep using it, and it doesn't heat evenly.”
“I see.” he nodded.
It was quiet for a few moments.
“I might keep one of the shawls for myself. I’ll leave it un-enchanted, but I could use a new one.” I muttered. I could use an entirely new wardrobe, really. Jedda had noted that the dress I’d worn had been in bad shape, but it definitely wasn’t the only one.
“How many do you have made so far?”
“Oh…about five. This’ll be six, I think.” I told him.
“Can I see them?”
I blinked, surprised at the request, but wasn’t displeased. In fact, it was kind of nice to have someone want to see something I’d been working so hard on. I was pretty proud of them, too, since I’d used several different patterns. “Sure!”
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