Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
“What pie do you have today?” Percival asked.
The chicken pot pie yesterday had been magnificent. The filling had been rich and creamy and the flavours complex. The succulent chicken had melted in his mouth. Combined with the vegetables, it had been absolutely incredible.
He’d devoured both pies in record time. It had been almost as good as the mushroom and leek pie from the day before.
If the baker wasn’t so unpleasant to talk to, he might ask how the pie was cooked and what seasoning they used. Then he could tell Cook, and she could try to make something similar for Percival.
“It’s a minced beef pie.” The baker smiled with that fake smile of his. “Does that meet your high approval, Your Lordship?”
Percival pressed his lips together. It did. It sounded delectable. But he wouldn’t tell the baker that. “That will be adequate. I’ll take two.”
The baker went to grab them.
Percival glanced to the back of the bakery. His eyes narrowed. “You have a twin.”
“Your Lordship has excellent eyes,” the baker said as he packaged the pies.
Percival’s nostrils flared. He wondered if the twin was as rude as the insolent baker who served him.
The man’s twin had a grey pallor to his skin. And he sagged forward as he mixed something. But what Percival noticed most of all was the haze that hung around him.
“Your twin isn’t well.” Percival tilted his head. “Something is wrong with him.”
Percival’s instincts told him the man wasn’t ill precisely. There was something unnatural harming him. But he couldn’t tell what. He doubted he could heal the man with his powers.
Percival didn’t think whatever was wrong with the man was contagious…but just to be safe. He glanced at the baker, who wasn’t meeting his eyes.
“Which of you makes the pies?” If this man’s twin made the pies, would Percival stop eating them? His stomach sank at the idea.
“I make the pies,” the baker said, voice tense. He still didn’t meet Percival’s eyes. Percival let out a relieved breath.
A muscle ticked in the baker’s jaw as he slid the pies across the counter. Had Percival upset the baker with his question? He rolled his eyes. He was a paying customer. He had a right to know that he wouldn’t get sick from eating the food served here.
But it surprised him that the baker in front of him made the pies. “So you’re terrible at serving but a passable baker?”
The muscle in the baker’s jaw ticked again.
“What’s your name?”
The baker didn’t answer immediately, as if not wanting Percival to know. But Percival just waited, not taking the pies. Although, he tensed his fingers, wanting to snap them up and gobble them down. They smelled delicious.
“It’s Leo, Your Lordship.” His hard brown eyes finally met Percival’s.
“Leo?” Percival scoffed. “What sort of name is Leo? That can’t be your full name! Did your parents seriously name you Leo?”
“My full name is Leopold, my lord,” he said, tone clipped. “That will be eighty bells.”
Percival paid and took the pies. But he paused. “What pie are you making tomorrow?”
“I decide what I feel like making on the day, Your Lordship.”
“I see.” Then Percival strode from the bakery.
When he arrived in his office, he set the pies on his desk. He glanced to the window. There was no sign of the raven. She hadn’t returned since the day Percival healed him.
Is she still alive?
Percival looked away. Not that he cared about some bird. Why should he? The creature meant nothing to him. And Percival was not some soft-hearted phoenix. Not in this life at least.
He sat and took out the first pie, staring down at the golden pastry. His lips tingled with anticipation. His mouth watered.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” The yell echoed down the corridor.
Percival’s shoulders tensed. He closed his eyes and let out a breath.
“Your incompetence has fucked us over!”
With great reluctance, Percival placed the pie down. He got to his feet, grabbed his ledger, and walked out his office and to his cousin’s.
“If you can’t do your fucking job, what is the point of keeping you around?” Cyprian, his cousin, shouted, voice ringing off the walls. “How could that much glass be ruined?” The scent of smoke thickened in the air.
And in front of Cyprian, Nix, the imp foreman, stood, shoulders hunched, horned head lowered, red wings tucked against his back.
Percival’s lips twitched. His cousin was a bully. He loved nothing more than shouting the workers into submission.
“I’m…so…so sorry, my lord,” Nix stuttered.
“You’re so, so, so sorry?” Cyprian mocked. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t cast you into the streets!”
The hairs on Percival’s neck stood up.
“Give me one reason I shouldn’t cast you into the streets!” The words echoed in his head. But this time, it was in Percival’s uncle’s voice. His uncle Ignatius’s voice sounded so similar to Cyprian’s.
Like father, like son.
After rebirth, a phoenix was so weak. They relied on others to look after them and keep them safe whilst they readjusted. He’d fled to his uncle for assistance after his last rebirth.
Their families had been estranged. But they’d still been family. And his uncle and cousin had been the only family Percival had left.
“Am I just meant to take you in because your parents were too feeble to survive? Why should I look after you because they were murdered? You’re not my responsibility. You’re nothing to me!” He spat the words.
Percival shrank in on himself, whole body shaking. “Please, Uncle. I have nowhere else to go,” he begged. “Please.”
“You’re just as pathetic as your parents were, as your siblings were! I’d just be wasting my energy looking after you.” His uncle sneered. “You’ll probably suffer a permanent death soon.”
Percival’s heart pounded in his chest.
“I swear, if you make one more mistake, you’re done here!” Cyprian took a step towards the imp, and his eyes flashed.
Nix shrank back.
Percival took a deep breath, calming himself. He wasn’t a newly reborn phoenix anymore. He might have been weak in his past lives. But he wasn’t now.
His uncle had made sure of that.
“Cyprian, I want to have our meeting with Uncle Ignatius now,” Percival said loudly.
Technically they didn’t have a fixed time for their meeting, but he needed a reason to come in here and distract his cousin from taking his anger out on Nix.
“Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something?” Cyprian whipped around to face Percival. Embers burst amongst the strands of his hair.
The embers they created couldn’t actually cause fire. They more just created light, and if you touched them, they’d be warm. But they always flickered out after a few seconds.
“Yes,” Percival drawled, sounding bored. “I can hear your little temper tantrum all the way down in my office. It’s quite distracting.”
Cyprian sputtered.
Percival continued, “But I want to show my numbers to Uncle now.” He lifted his ledger. Then he turned to Nix. “You can return to work.”
Nix gave Percival a grateful look before running from the room.
“What?” Cyprian yelled. The smell of smoke in the air intensified.
Percival wasn’t helping Nix because of some kind-hearted nonsense or something like that. He was helping Nix because he was a good foreman, detail orientated, conscientious, and responsible. Percival had always found Nix to follow his orders competently.
No doubt his cousin had screwed up and was just taking it out on Nix. The imp didn’t deserve that.
Cyprian practically vibrated with rage as he stared at Percival. But his cousin could do nothing to harm Percival. Not anymore.
“Are you coming, or should I tell Uncle you’re too busy with…whatever it is you’re trying to accomplish?” Without waiting for an answer, Percival turned and strode away, knowing his cousin would follow.
But Percival held in a sigh. It looked like he’d have to wait to eat the pies.