Epilogue
Jildarin hung the glowing golden whisk in the front window of the diner, its light bathing the street outside and inviting people to come in. He emanated pride as he backed up and studied its placement.
“We will have to hire more staff,” he said. “Once the word of my victory and culinary excellence spreads, we are certain to have an increase in clientele.”
“And they won’t even be here for the soup.” Rylana decided not to point out that he sounded pompous. She didn’t think he was wrong.
“Not only for the soup, at least. You will perform calculations to determine the proper prices for menu items based on our new notoriety.”
“One usually prices based on achieving a certain margin above the expenses of running the establishment and making the dishes,” she said.
“In the culinary world, the reputation of the chef also must be factored into the prices.”
“Are you looking to become wealthy?” Rylana didn’t know how long the diner could expect a boost in business from Jildarin's victory.
Would it be lasting? Or would people eventually forget about the competition?
His food was good, and she expected that repeat customers would be frequent.
Maybe hiring more staff was a good idea.
“I seek to have enough reserves that I needn’t worry about paying the rent and buying necessary equipment and supplies. Without needing coin from my manipulative family.”
“You don’t want to be coerced into mating for money, huh?”
“Certainly not.”
“That’s understandable.”
“Yes.” Jildarin considered her for a moment, then waved for her to follow him into the hallway. “I have something for you.”
“Like… a gift? Or work?” Rylana envisioned him leading her to the office and her accounting books to record his winnings.
“It is not work,” Jildarin said with amusement. “It is to show my appreciation for your assistance this past week.”
“I didn’t know dragons knew how to show appreciation,” she said before she could tamp down her natural snark. She didn’t want to offend him, not if he was beginning to see her worth—and that she wasn’t plotting his demise.
“Our kind are capable of being appreciative, but you are correct that we are not a demonstrative people.”
Having mostly seen dragons raking enemies with their claws while breathing fire and biting with their fang-filled maws, Rylana couldn’t imagine how one of them demonstrated affection.
She tried to imagine two dragons snuggled together with their tails entwined but snorted at the unlikelihood.
It hadn’t sounded like their mating had anything to do with what humans would consider romance and love.
In the kitchen, Jildarin stepped into the cold room and returned with a covered pan. He removed the lid to reveal a side of bacon rubbed with a brown powder mixture that smelled sweet and also of…
“Is that coffee?” Rylana lowered her nose for a closer sniff.
“That is the main ingredient in this new rub that I am experimenting with. This slab is still curing, but I’ve another that just came out of the smoker.
” Jildarin returned to the cool room, switched pans, and returned with a side of bacon ready for frying.
“I thought to reward you for your work here.”
He walked to the stove, placed a pan on the cooktop, then rested the bacon on a butcher block to slice it.
Even though it still had to cook, Rylana's mouth watered. “I would pretend to be offended at the idea of being rewarded with a treat like a loyal hound, but… coffee-rubbed bacon sounds way too amazing to be offended by.”
“Yes. And loyalty should be rewarded in all species.” Jildarin looked over his shoulder at her, his eyelids drooping.
If she hadn’t known better, she might have thought he had bedroom thoughts in mind.
But he’d made his feelings on sex clear.
Besides, he didn’t have a bedroom. They would be storeroom thoughts.
Or perhaps lair thoughts. Either way, Jildarin returned to slicing, and she decided she’d been hallucinating by reading anything into his look.
“What will you do now that you’ve won the contest after practicing so long for it?” Since Rylana had only been in town for a week, she didn’t know how long Jildarin had been practicing but trusted he’d diligently trained for months.
“Continue to use my cooking to inform the various peoples of Tranquility that dragons are capable of culinary greatness and that our kind are more than mindless predators as so many believe.” Jildarin laid four strips of sliced bacon in the pan and activated the gnomish ventilation fan.
He hadn’t fired up the stove, but the surface had heated regardless, and Rylana leaned forward in anticipation as the sizzling of bacon began.
“I look forward to watching the diner’s success and seeing you get the recognition you deserve for your hard work,” she said.
Jildarin considered her for a moment, then lay two more slices in the pan.
“Do I get more bacon when I compliment you?” Rylana wouldn’t complain.
“As we discussed, all species should be rewarded for good behavior.”
The bacon was starting to smell wonderful, of coffee and salty pork and was that maple he’d used to add sweetness? Had she been the hound she’d mentioned earlier, she would have been wagging her tail if not thumping her leg on the floor.
“Does your appreciation mean you’ve decided to keep me on permanently as your bookkeeper?
And that you trust that I’m not out to get you?
” Rylana knew he’d started believing the latter for a while, and she thought he valued her ability to balance his books and improve profits, but it would be nice to have that confirmed.
Once she knew her job was permanent—maybe she could talk him into paying people in more than tips, as well—she could look for a more long-term place to stay than in the corner of the storeroom.
She could settle in to start the next phase of her life.
“Had you been out to get me, you would not have stepped in often to keep me from changing into a dragon where the peacekeepers could see.”
“I’m glad you realize that.”
“As to the rest, I am still not entirely certain why you have desired to help me and work for me, but...” Jildarin trailed off as he flipped slices of bacon, then pulled down a plate in preparation for taking them off the heat.
“I like a challenge,” Rylana offered, hoping he would finish his thought.
“That is undoubtedly true. Most people would not have chosen rock candy as a method of defeating an enemy from a distance.”
“There wasn’t anything else on hand.”
“Yelling for me to duck was sufficient.” Jildarin moved the cooked bacon to the plate to cool.
Rylana was tempted to pounce on it immediately, hardly caring that it was hot. “If I hadn’t done something, the guy might have gotten away.”
She lamented that the goblin had. At least Yerin had been taken away by the peacekeepers, but she doubted he would be punished for his scheme. Forcing a magical being to change shapes was not, as far as she knew, against the law, even in Tranquility.
“Perhaps,” Jildarin said. “To answer your question, I desire you to become—”
“Greetings, dear brother,” Zilek said, entering the kitchen.
Rylana stepped aside to make room for him, though she wished he hadn’t appeared until Jildarin had finished speaking with her—and handed her the plate of bacon.
Zilek’s nostrils twitched. “What is that wonderful meat you are cooking? And do I also smell the human stimulant coffee?”
“The coffee is in the meat.” Jildarin took tongs from a ceramic utensil holder, plucked a piece directly out of the sizzling pan, and extended it toward his brother.
Not hesitating, Zilek took it with his bare fingers. The heat didn’t bother him, and he inserted it directly into his mouth.
“Oh, that’s exquisite.” Zilek chewed happily. “What wondrous flavors to put together.”
Rylana eyed his chewing with envy, but she trusted Jildarin intended to give her several pieces. And she, not being a dragon who was impervious to fire and heat, would prefer to wait until they wouldn’t burn her tongue.
“Now I feel even greater remorse,” Zilek added.
“For what?” The expression Jildarin shared with Rylana while his brother finished chewing suggested he also would have preferred if Zilek hadn’t shown up at that moment.
“I came to apologize for the mishap you had with the sisters in the mountains. When I asked them to bring some spices, I may have suggested that you would be grateful and might grant their wishes for your vaunted sperm—”
Rylana groaned and would have stepped out of the kitchen if not for the magnetic allure of the bacon rooting her near the stove.
“—but I didn’t think they would bribe you with it. Or attack you. I suppose I should have foreseen that, as they’re quite determined in their quest.”
“How did you know I would need more spices?” Jildarin's tone wasn’t exactly suspicious, but he did regard his brother intently. “You would have had to tell them three days ago for them to travel all that way and return, and it’s only been two days since the goblin arsonist destroyed my pantry.”
“One of your rivals attends the wine conclave. We were discussing the increasing popularity of your diner, and he mentioned that you would likely run out of your secret ingredient soon and that your business endeavor was sure to fail after that. In hindsight, it should have occurred to me that he might be plotting its demise, but you know dragons aren’t great schemers and don’t tend to anticipate that others will be.
We aren’t usually ones to employ bribes either, of course. ”
“I hope the sisters’ failure to entice me to mate will cause them to return to our homeland and find another suitable male.”