Chapter 1 #2
My eyes stayed on the cobblestone, and I tried not to look at the still-vacant storefront as I passed, not wanting to be reminded once again of my failed attempt at owning my own eatery.
It wasn’t all that long ago that my dreams within those walls were crushed, and I had had no choice but to sell it back to the town.
After a couple more minutes of walking, I entered the Pearl River Kitchen through the back door. Neo flew off to wherever he went while I was working. I threw my hair up, tying the red strands behind my head before I began cooking.
Finley was already here, prepping for the evening.
The kitchen only served dinner, and he only offered the same two meals: fish or chicken.
Why he refused to venture outside of those options was beyond me, but it wasn’t my place to question.
However, I had made suggestions to at least add beef to the menu, only to be quickly shot down.
And forget pork. I knew it was too expensive anyway.
Finley was hunched over a prep table when he turned his head toward me with a blank stare. “Since you came in late, we’re already behind. I need you to finish this quickly before the customers arrive.”
I glanced at the clock and sighed. “That’s in twenty minutes.”
He set down the paring knife and the potato he was peeling, then wiped his wrinkled hands on a rag. “Then you better get to it. I have to go set up the front.” He didn’t say anything more before walking through the doorway and disappearing into the dining area.
That was just how he was. He was never rude or mean, but he wasn’t exactly nice, either; and he was certainly a man of few words. We got along in a professional manner, and it was good enough for me.
Finley, the owner of the Pearl River Kitchen, had graciously hired me as a cook to replace his late wife.
I was desperate for a job after I had lost the eatery due to the rumors.
But Finley was also desperate. He was getting old, reaching into his late seventies, and couldn’t keep up with the kitchen on his own.
So he allowed me to work for him under the agreement that I wouldn’t tell anyone, and I was to stay hidden—remaining in the back at all times where no one would see me.
No one wanted to be fed by a whore.
He never explicitly said it, but I knew it was the reason. He’d heard the horrendous rumors. The whole town had. Hell, I still heard them. And it made for great dinner conversation apparently…
Hours later, well past dark during a lull in the dinner rush, I stood by the opening to the dining area, keeping myself hidden behind the wall as I did almost every night. Not to hear about the rumors, but for the praise.
I rested my head on the wall as I leaned against it, wiping the sweat on my forehead from being stuck by the hot oven and stove for hours.
This was my favorite part. Not being exhausted and hot but eavesdropping on the patrons while they ate.
I envisioned engaging with people again, pretending I could serve them meals without the slurs.
“I don’t know how he does it, but I swear this fish gets better and better every time I come here,” someone said.
The side of my mouth lifted, and I unconsciously placed a hand over the now-empty spice bottle I kept concealed in my pocket.
“As terrible as it sounds, I think Fin’s wife dying was the best thing to happen to this place. You can tell he puts all of his focus into his food. Probably to distract himself from the grief,” someone else added.
Wow. Morbid, but okay.
It was those moments that made everything worth it—hearing the appreciation for my work.
Finley hadn’t cooked once since I’d been here, not since his wife, Pearl—whom the kitchen was named after—died.
It was the only time the people in the town spoke kindly of me.
And every single comment motivated me to do even better the next night.
Different spices and marinades, new methods and temperatures.
I was starving for any kind of compliment.
It was all I needed to keep me satisfied and a small smile on my lips as I finished my night cooking dish after dish until we closed.
I stayed after and cleaned the entire kitchen while Finley shuffled around in the front doing whatever he did.
When I was finished, I hung up my apron and left without saying a word.
The moment the door closed behind me, I heard Neo’s impatient greeting and spotted him sitting on the edge of the roof above me with his head tilted to the sky, his black feathers shining from the moonlight.
“Yeah, yeah. I snagged you some fish. But you were a pain in my ass today, so you’re going to have to wait until we get back,” I said to the raven over my shoulder and started walking back to my parents’ house.
Neo made a clicking noise that sounded like disapproval, and a moment later I heard the flapping of his wings as he followed me all the way through town.
The interior of the house was lit by candlelight when I arrived, and I could see my mother through the window, limping into the kitchen with one leg dragging along the floor. Neo landed on the railing again and nipped at me when I reached for the door.
“Ah! You’re such a little shit, you know that?”
He snapped his beak twice and glanced down at my bag.
Oh. Right.
I pulled out the scraps of fish I’d taken from Pearl’s, and he snatched them from my palm, nearly taking a piece of my hand with it.
“Bite me, and I will pluck you bald,” I seethed.
He blinked at me.
I shook my head and went inside.
I hated how quiet the house was now. Ever since Pa was killed, it felt empty, colder without him.
He was large with an even larger voice. He filled any room with his warm presence and loud demeanor.
The man couldn’t whisper if he tried. He’d always bellow my name in greeting and cross the house in a few long strides before wrapping me in his arms.
But now, the house was silent, save for Ma’s quiet voice and soft shuffling, doing her best to get around her home.
“How was work?” she asked without so much as turning around.
“It was fine,” I said as I closed the door and walked into the kitchen. “But I’ve been smelling that food for hours without getting to eat any, and now I’m starving.”
“Well, Ortrune brought over a beef shoulder after closing up his shop. Such a nice boy.”
“He’s over thirty years old. He’s a man now, Ma.”
Ortrune was my father’s apprentice in his butcher shop, taking over after Pa’s death.
We even gave him our cattle to keep the shop open.
Vosten and I weren’t capable of taking over the business just yet, and my mother certainly couldn’t with her condition—so Ortrune did.
Ever since, he’s brought over cuts of meat every single night as a kind gesture to my mother.
“You’re absolutely right. He is a man. A single—”
“No,” I cut her off before she could even finish the thought.
“I’m just saying…” she trailed off. “What about that nice Bastian boy you used to be friendly with? Or the farrier’s nephew? Or even—”
“Ma. Stop. Please.” I didn’t want to think about any men.
Not anymore.
“I just don’t want you to be alone, Vhaena.” She offered her gentle, crooked smile.
“I know.” I blew out a breath and busied myself with the meat on the counter. “Where’s Vos?” I asked, changing the subject.
My brother worked in town as a builder for an architect, but he was usually here before I was. He never worked at night like I did. It was too dangerous without proper lighting, and the flame-lit street lanterns could only do so much.
And apart from that, tonight was special. I couldn’t imagine what would have made him late.
“He was here earlier, and said he’d be back soon.” My mother leaned against the wash basin and began rinsing the vegetables picked from the garden out back—by Vosten, I presumed.
We didn’t have much, but at least we were fed.
Between the meat given to us, the produce from the garden, and any leftover food I took from the kitchen, I cooked every night for our family.
And I loved to cook. We didn’t have much, but we never went to bed with an empty stomach.
Sometimes cold. Sometimes sick. But never hungry, and for that, I was grateful.
I was nearly finished making dinner an hour later when the front door opened. I turned, ready to greet Vosten only to find him followed by…
I audibly groaned.
Fucking Daemon.