Epilogue #2
“I’m not sure about that. You left deep claw marks on the flank of one and bit the other in the shoulder, tearing a hole that will take time to mend.
In short, you impressed them anew with your ferocity, and I believe they want you more than ever.
” With a grin, Zilek stepped forward and reached for the plate of bacon.
Jildarin caught him by the wrist. “The remaining pieces are for Rylana.”
Zilek looked at her as if he’d just noticed she was there. “Your servant?”
“My…”
Rylana waited for him to finish with the traditional enemy.
“Ally,” was what he said.
She smiled, her heart warmed.
“She hasn’t bribed me, nor set me up to be bribed,” Jildarin added.
“She did shoot you.” Zilek waved to Jildarin's temple.
“Not recently. Further, she assisted me with my rival at the Golden Whisk.”
“Well then, I’m pleased my insistence that you take her on to help with your books has worked out.
” Zilek gave the plate a longing look, but he stepped back, and Jildarin released his wrist. “You are most welcome,” Zilek added, heading for the doorway.
“Perhaps you’ll join me at the wine conclave next month. ”
“Do you believe him?” Rylana asked when they were alone again. “That he was trying to help, not set you up for anything?” She wasn’t sure she did.
“We have been rivals since we were hatchlings but have also always watched out for each other,” Jildarin said.
“I do not think he had anything to do with Yerin’s scheme or intended for me to fail in the competition, but he has not supported me as fully as some.
” He nodded to her, and the warmth returned.
“As I was saying, I desire for you to become—”
“Rylana?” Zalani stepped into the doorway. “There’s a man here to see you.”
Rylana huffed in exasperation. “It can wait.”
She wanted to know what Jildarin desired her to become.
“He says he’s an important lord. And, er, your father.” Zalani raised her eyebrows. “When you mentioned being a mercenary and fighting in the war, I assumed— I didn’t think you had any family left. Are you sure you’re not related to the Avandars that live across the lake?”
Rylana grimaced. She didn’t want to see her father but knew making him wait wouldn’t improve his mood.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” she told Jildarin and grabbed a piece of bacon. Before she’d more than turned toward the door, she rotated back to grab a second slice, popping one into her mouth on the way. Oh, yes. That was every bit as good as she had expected.
“Do you want some to share with your sire?” Jildarin asked as she walked into the hallway.
“No.”
Rylana wasn’t sharing her reward with anyone. It was delicious. And hers.
She chomped down both slices on the short walk from the kitchen to the freshly painted dining room. Even though it had been cleaned and tidied, showing no signs of the fire, her father stood near the door with his coat folded over his arms, looking around like he couldn’t wait to depart.
“What is he doing here?” Rylana murmured.
Zalani had walked out with her and smiled, extending her hand toward the glowing whisk in the window, as if the answer were obvious.
“I doubt he knows anything about the contest,” Rylana said, though her father always read the newspaper, so that probably wasn’t true. He would at least be aware of it.
As Rylana approached, Jildarin exited the kitchen, but he remained in the hallway and didn’t look like he would interfere with her conversation. He’d probably come out to watch. Rolf and Gniknik, who appeared to be arguing about a tip left on a table, also turned to look.
Rylana had no idea what her father wanted but wished he’d sent a note and invited her to meet somewhere else.
“I have heard,” he said without preamble, “that you are now a bookkeeper.”
She couldn’t tell from his tone if he approved or thought that was as lowly a job as being a mercenary.
“I’m helping Chef Jildarin with the numbers, yes.
” Though Rylana doubted her father cared about anyone present, she pointed around to make introductions, finishing by stepping aside so that he could see into the hallway.
“That is Jildarin-grozanarav of Clan Killcrusher. Jildarin, this is my father, Lord Gavlin Avandar.”
“The contest winner.” Ah, Father had read about it in the newspaper.
“And the owner of this establishment, yes.”
“A legitimate business that earns its money through the distribution of meals?” Father arched his eyebrows, something in the expression making Rylana think he might have heard the rumors about the diner from its dragon-spice days. Days in the very recent past.
“That is correct.” Jildarin looked at Rylana, as if asking what illegitimate way a diner might earn money.
She didn’t look at Rolf.
“The family business has expanded from being primarily a shipping carrier,” Father said, “to also offering logistics management, providing warehousing, and even building rails and roads in landlocked nations desiring access to the global markets.” He paused and waited expectantly.
What did he want Rylana to say?
“Congratulations,” was what she offered.
“Should you seek employment that is more challenging and offers the potential for upward mobility, and should you be willing to return to your studies to learn what is required, the family would have an opportunity for you.”
Oh.
Rylana tried to smile, but it must have come out as more of a grimace. This was exactly what she hadn’t wanted. Not seventeen years ago and not now. The job sounded stressful even without the added tension of working with her uptight father.
“Rylana is employed as my bookkeeper,” Jildarin said. “She is required here.”
Father gave him a condescending look. “Employment at a diner is not upwardly mobile.”
“Based on her recent contributions and the fact that she’s not attempted to slay me,” Jildarin said, “I have decided to make her a partner in my business.”
Rylana blinked. Had he just decided that? Or had that been what he’d been about to tell her in the kitchen?
Jildarin, looking a little smug, met her gaze with a slight smile and nodded at her.
She had the urge to run over and clasp his hand, or even hug him, but she didn’t, not with her father looking on.
Besides, she had no doubt that he wanted a business partner, not anything romantic.
Still, he was quite handsome when he smiled and looked warmly at her.
Father was also blinking and taking a moment to recover, though it may have had more to do with the words not attempted to slay me than the partnership news. He looked toward the golden whisk in the window, considering it thoughtfully for a moment, then turned back to them.
“You’ll accept that position?” he asked Rylana.
She recovered from her own surprise, glanced at Jildarin, then said, “Yes. This place is… more challenging than you might expect.”
A thunk came from one of the tables. The tip money had disappeared, but Rolf and Gniknik were now engaged in an argument over clearing dishes.
“I see,” Father said.
He looked toward the door, and she thought that would be the end of the visit, but he turned back again to ask, “Do you wish to get coffee?”
Rylana’s first instinct was to object, but she thought of Sylin’s words about blood ties and bonds. “All right,” she said.
“I see there is a new shop located across the street,” Father said. “Or perhaps you would prefer a pastry from that bakery.”
“The coffee,” Rylana hurried to say, “is excellent.”
And it wasn’t shaped into anything suggestive.
Her father nodded, and they walked across the street together. Rylana looked up toward the rooftop and caught a glimpse of a hooded figure sitting up there, keeping an eye on things.
THE END