Chapter 2 #2
“Come on, handsome,” I said, resting a gentle hand against his shoulder to guide him back down to the sofa. “Down you go. Eat your dinner. Don’t walk out on us yet.”
I swear I saw a tinge of blush on his tawny cheeks, but he quickly cleared his throat and picked up his fork.
“If you’re not willing to investigate your customers, we’ll have to start with the staff.
Tell me all you know about them,” he said before taking his first bite.
His face shifted at first taste, and I knew the look. Olive’s cooking was magic of its own.
I talked about Griffin and Olive while he ate.
Griffin was great at his job, but he disliked me and didn’t think I was doing enough to keep this place running.
Olive was a recently widowed mother of three who worked hard to keep her kids fed and housed, and I wished I could give her more.
I told him there used to be a stable hand, but he left right after my grandfather passed away.
I had been taking care of stable duties while searching for help, but I had to stop searching for obvious reasons.
Sterling began tucking his belongings back into the empty pack.
“Thank you, Fidderspat. I’ll have to chat with them tomorrow,” Sterling said, cinching his bag shut.
“In the meantime, try to think of who else might hold a grudge against either of you or against the inn. We’ll reconnect tomorrow evening and compare notes. ”
“Sure, Turnip. Do you have any other questions for us?” I asked.
Sterling’s eyes found mine, and then he looked me up and down slowly. “It wasn’t you, was it?” he asked.
Jasmine and I exchanged a tired look. Was he joking? Why would he even ask that? When I looked at him again, he smiled, holding back a laugh.
“You got me,” I said. “I cursed my own inn and then called the Force on myself.”
Sterling stood up, slinging his pack over his shoulder. “Easy. Open and shut,” he joked. “I’ll call the Force out here to have you arrested tomorrow. Goodnight.”
Jasmine laughed. “Slow down, tough guy. Where do you think you’re going? We haven’t even given you a room yet,” she said.
“I’m going back to Ladiall. I have no money.”
“That’s ridiculous. It’s a half-day journey from here. You’ll be walking all night, and it’s freezing out there,” I said, passing him to reach the door first. “Follow me. I’ll show you to your room. No more arguing.”
I held the door open for him and watched him struggle against his own reluctance until he finally said. “Thank you, Mr. Fibbersnap.”
“Cassian.”
STERLING
Cassian Fibbersnap was nothing like I expected.
For one thing, he was a lot prettier than I thought a country boy could be.
He had light hair that framed his smiling face, blue eyes, and a light spatter of freckles across his nose.
He might have been wearing Jasmine’s clothes, but maybe he always wore frilly blouses. It looked good on him either way.
From the tone of his letter, I thought he would be scatterbrained and lost, but he had the skills and the personality to run an inn. After one interaction with him, I completely understood why his grandfather left this place to him.
“Here’s your room,” he said to me, unlocking a door on the second floor before handing me the small brass key. “Room thirteen. They say it’s haunted. It’s not, but people like to say that.”
It was hard not to find him charming.
We stepped inside the small space together. There was not much to it, but it was enough. It had a bed, a small table, a window with a view of the stable and the woods beyond, and a small bathroom.
“Thank you, Mr. Fobbersnip,” I said.
He closed his eyes and smiled as if reminding himself it was just a joke.
I know I shouldn’t tease citizens, but he made it okay when he teased back.
“You’re the only person here aside from Jasmine and me, so let us know if you need anything at all, okay?
I’m at your service any hour of the day or night.
I’ll bring you breakfast in the morning.
And coffee, since now I know you like it so much,” he said with a wink.
“That isn’t necessary. I brought my own food,” I said.
“Pfft, don’t be silly,” he said, waving a hand in the air. “I have to eat every day, anyway. Maybe you wouldn’t find yourself so burdensome if I shared my meals with you.”
“I’m not here to make things harder for you,” I said.
“Great, then I’ll see you in the morning. Sleep tight! Don’t let the bedbugs bite. Just kidding, we don’t have bedbugs. G’night, Sterling!” He stepped into the hall and shut the door behind him before I could say it back.
In the morning, he did just as he threatened and arrived at my door with a tray of breakfast and coffee, smiling as bright as the sun through my window.
“Good morning, Mr. Turnip! May I come in?” he asked.
I stepped aside without thinking, and he waltzed into my room in a tornado of hospitality with a spread of bacon, eggs, toast, and coffee.
“Mr. Fib—”
“Sit down!” Cassian said, still smiling as he dropped into one of the small chairs at the table. I sat stiffly across from him, not used to having others in my space. It was my fault, though. I let him in.
“Thank you,” I said, sitting across from him. “So, um… I’ve been thinking about this curse. I may have an idea.”
“Oh yeah?” Cassian asked, watching me with his blue eyes while he munched on a piece of toast.
“Do you know the exact terms of the curse? Does it prevent money from passing hands, or is it a curse against any business taking place? Clearly, it doesn’t prevent people from entering the inn. It seems related to money, somehow,” I said while pouring myself a steaming mug of coffee.
Cassian watched me fill the mug before replying. “It prevents the inn from receiving business.”
“How do you know that?” I asked.
Cassian’s gaze wandered to the window behind me, and then he smiled at me and set the toast down. “Just a theory. What’s your idea?”
I found it suspicious that he kept avoiding that question, but I didn’t push it. He might have lost trust in me if I badgered him too much. “Can I borrow a gold coin?”
Cassian’s eyebrows furrowed, and he smiled. “This is your plan?”
“I want to test it first,” I explained.
Cassian nodded, holding the toast in his mouth while he dug in his pocket for money. He retrieved one shimmering gold coin and handed it over to me. “What are you going to do, pay me with my own money?”
I examined the coin, and then I fixed my gaze on him again. “This is for breakfast,” I said, offering it to him. He reached for it, and it slipped through my fingers and fell into the piping hot jug of coffee.
Cassian and I both eyed the jug in awe of the magic. “Great, thanks a lot, Turnip,” he said.
I chuckled. “So you could give me the coin for free, but it didn’t make it back to you when I tried to use it to pay you. May I borrow another coin?”
Cassian shot me a flat, teasing glare while he dug for another coin, and I found it difficult to break eye contact. He slapped the coin into my open palm and said, “Don’t drop this one.”
“I’ll try not to,” I replied, pinching it tight between my thumb and forefinger. “Thank you for bringing me breakfast. Unrelated to the provided service, here is a gold coin for you, as a donation.”
I returned the coin to him, and he looked from the coin to me, unimpressed. “How generous.”
I laughed because he was funny, but also because I was proud of myself for finding the loophole. “Don’t you see what this means?”
Cassian squinted at the coin. “I should start begging?”
“No, you may receive business again if you provide free rooms with the option for your guests to donate,” I explained.
Cassian’s eyebrows lifted, and his gaze wandered as he worked out the kinks in the plan. “Free rooms… Do you think anyone would donate?”
“Absolutely. You’d be surprised at the power of community. Some people certainly won’t, but I think most will. Even if you’re earning less, it’s better than nothing.”
“Not necessarily. It costs money to run this place. Limitless free stays would ruin us,” Cassian said, folding his fingers over the coin in his palm.
“How much would it set you back to try it for a few days?” I asked.
“That’s a serious risk to take.”
“If you were in that situation as a customer, would you donate?” I asked.
Cassian hesitated. “I would… but it doesn’t mean other people would.”
“I would,” I add. “Would Griffin? Would Olive? Jasmine?”
Cassian slowly nodded, and then his eyes fixed on me again. “Okay, yeah.” A smile bloomed across his face. “Let’s try it.”
Cassian remained in my room for the rest of breakfast, and I was surprised to miss his company when he left. I usually preferred being alone, but something about him was so comforting.
When I got dressed for the day and found my way to the lobby, Cassian called for a team meeting, dragging Griffin, Olive, and Jasmine to the fireside sofa to discuss the plan.
“Good morning! It’s a new day today, and I have great news!” Cassian said.
“You’re stepping down?” Griffin grunted.
Cassian’s bright mood dimmed immediately. He folded his hands behind his back, clearing his throat before he spoke. “This is Officer Sterling Thorndrop. He’s here to help us break the curse on the inn. This morning, he gave me a great idea.”
“He told you to step down?” Griffin said again.
“That isn’t funny, Griffin,” Jasmine snipped at him. “Cassian is doing his best.”
“I’m aware,” Griffin said.
“Enough, let him speak,” I said.
“Thank you,” Cassian muttered to us. His bright, excited demeanor from just moments before was completely gone. “We’re going to offer free rooms with optional donations. It’s the best the curse allows for.”
Griffin guffawed, dominating all conversation with his disbelief. “You must be joking. Free rooms?”
“We’ll try it for a few days, and if people choose not to help, then we’ll discontinue the offer, but at least we’re trying something,” Cassian said.