Chapter Two
In Which Disappointments Continue
The sun was shining. The birds were singing. And Mitch wanted to punch something.
Last night had been worse than a waste of time.
His soon-to-be-ex employer, Carlo Barone, had insisted that he and Arslan add to his consequence by standing at his side for the entirety of the dance.
Mitch hadn’t felt that he could say no if he wanted a reference for the next job.
As a mercenary of sorts, he relied on his reputation to find work.
He’d already been in Boschivo for longer than he preferred to stay in one place.
Even sleeping in the woods out of sight, hearing, and scent range of the nearest house hadn’t been enough to restore his equilibrium.
With a huge yawn, Mitch stretched, then lumbered over to a nearby stream.
The early autumn day was cool but promised to be warm before long.
He dunked his head in the stream to help wake himself.
After the shock cleared the cobwebs from his mind, he pulled back and indulged in a full-body shake.
It was only his imagination, obviously, but he could still feel the tight collar of his “nice” clothes and the press of too many people in a confined space.
Mindless small talk made him feel itchy at the best of times.
Last night had the added torture of not being able to walk away.
For reasons beyond Mitch’s comprehension, Boschivo’s young people found his scar intriguing.
He had evaded, or blatantly ignored, multiple questions about how it came to be.
That story was destined to join him in the grave, unspoken.
Worse still was the group that had decided to introduce a new girl to him.
The young lady stood out like a phoenix among crows.
Mitch could appreciate her striking appearance.
What he didn’t appreciate was being forced to reject her.
Even if he hadn’t been tasked with standing guard in the corner, he didn’t dance.
It wasn’t that he didn’t know how; his mother had insisted he dance with her, before she passed.
It was more that standing up with a stranger was insupportable.
She had taken it rather well, he thought. No tears or whining. The others hadn’t bothered to hide their mirth, but she simply took the rejection in stride and calmly moved away. Mitch was pretty sure she had smiled, too.
The scent of rabbit caught his nose as the wind shifted. He debated the merits of starting a fire to cook the meat or heading back into town to eat at his lodgings. The thought of interacting with humans, even in passing, sent a shiver of dread down his spine.
Fresh meat, then. If he was lucky, he could forage some items to supplement his breakfast.
Tasia was woken bright and early by a hungry Chara. Evidently, an afternoon and evening of vomit hadn’t dampened her appetite. Used to preparing snacks for her little brother, Tasia escorted Chara to the kitchen before she could wake the rest of the family.
Since she was up, Tasia decided she may as well make breakfast for everyone.
Her culinary education had been limited by her family’s adherence to their expectations of noble behavior.
Baking was considered on the edge of ladylike, but savory cooking was right out.
Due to the self-absorption of her mother and sisters, Tasia had often been left to her own devices.
Some of that time she spent in the kitchens watching the chef and his helpers.
The woman in charge of baking didn’t mind teaching Tasia the secrets of breads, cakes, and pies.
And in spite of the others insisting that she stay away from the stove and the various pots and pans on their side of the room, Tasia still managed to pick up a bit here and there.
Upon searching through the cupboards, she found the necessary ingredients for a quick bread with dried fruit and nuts.
She slid the loaf pan into the oven after giving Chara yogurt with fruit.
Then she mixed up some eggs and zucchini for a scramble.
While she was debating whether or not to cook all of the eggs now or just a portion for Chara, Stavros walked in from outside.
She went ahead and started heating the egg mixture as he kicked off his boots and hung up his jacket.
Tasia understood that the man of the house worked in the forest, but she knew little beyond that.
Stavros didn’t offer a greeting of any sort.
He padded into the bedroom he shared with his wife and reappeared in time for a plate of eggs.
After being met with silence when she wished him a good morning and asked about his day so far, Tasia limited her conversation to answering the little girl’s unending questions.
The quick bread was ready shortly after Stavros finished his eggs.
He patiently waited for her to cut off a slice when it had cooled enough not to crumble apart.
Tasia was increasingly grateful that Chara hadn’t stopped speaking since she woke up, as it covered the awkward silence radiating from her father.
About the time that Tasia was beginning to despair of being rescued by the appearance of the others or his return to work, Stavros spoke.
“If you expect to stay in this house, you need to contribute to the family coffers in some way.”
Indignation burned within Tasia, though she didn’t let it show on her face. It felt rather unfair for him to insinuate that she wasn’t pulling her weight when she had just fed him and was watching his child.
“I’ve been lenient so far, but you’ve been here long enough to find your footing.”
It’s been two days, Tasia thought.
“It’s time for you to get a job.”
He finished speaking and made eye contact with her for the first time that morning.
Understanding that he expected an answer, she smiled cheerfully and promised to head out as soon as someone was available to watch Chara.
Satisfied, Stavros grunted and stalked over to his boots, leaving his dishes behind.
It seemed he had filled his childcare quota last night.
Anthi stirred from her room not long after. She gushed about breakfast being ready and made encouraging sounds when Tasia shared the plan to seek employment. The older woman was visibly less thrilled when Tasia didn’t offer to take Chara with her.
Pagona woke up as Tasia tried to leave, delaying her departure by expecting freshly cooked eggs.
“I’m afraid I’m heading out to find a job,” Tasia said. She kept her voice light and even. “Everything you need is right there.”
“And you already made food for everyone else.” Pagona put her hands on her hips and scowled at their guest. “It’s my turn.”
Tasia looked to Anthi, who focused on her plate and hummed to herself. Finding no help there, she tried to stare Pagona down. A losing battle from the start, Tasia grit her teeth and narrowed her eyes.
“Why don’t you ask Mo—”
“Thank you for doing this, dear,” Anthi interrupted smoothly. “We appreciate your gracious service.”
Tasia flicked her eyes over to Mother Anthi, who refused to look at either opponent.
Tasia sighed through her nose and set to work cooking fresh eggs.
As much as she wanted to protest, living with her sisters had taught her that arguing with people who believed you were an idiot never worked in your favor.
Additionally, she didn’t have anywhere to go if the Galanis family withdrew their welcome. Antagonizing her hosts was unwise.
Finally scooting out the door after feeding the ungrateful Pagona, Tasia hurried away from the house before she had a solid plan.
Securing an income could provide a buffer or a means of escape if worse came to worst. She didn’t know how much Stavros expected her to contribute, but she hoped it wasn’t the full amount.
The Galanis home wasn’t in the inner circle of the village, where the shopkeepers and mayor lived, nor was it on the outskirts.
Like the others nearby, it had a substantial garden space and a neat fence.
Tasia walked past many similar setups as she made her way toward the middle of the village.
Never needing to find work before, she wasn’t fully certain how to go about doing so.
As she walked, she considered what skills might help her.
She could read and write. That wasn’t as rare nowadays, as the Editors wanted folks to be able to read the Verified Histories for themselves.
Her penmanship was probably fancier, though.
Was there a need for pretty writing in this rural community?
Her meager baking and cooking skills might get her a foot in the door somewhere. She doubted she could compete with the folks who actually knew what they were doing, but maybe an apprenticeship was available. Did apprentices get paid? Her brow crinkled as she pondered.
Her musing had gotten her as far as the large well constructed outside what served as a town hall in Boschivo.
Still somewhat lost, she scanned her surroundings for inspiration.
The inn across the way boasted a tavern and more stories than she would have expected.
But more importantly, it had a good number of people buzzing around.
Tasia could talk to people. Somebody would be able to help her.
A warning tingle buzzed along her back as she approached the inn.
Last night’s general air of unfriendliness wasn’t likely to disappear in the morning light.
Tasia wanted to make friends in her new home, but she couldn’t expect open arms from the start.
Getting a job should help. Working together formed bonds, right?