Chapter 2
Lian
I stared up at the ceiling, counting the unfamiliar wooden beams that ran across it. They built their houses differently here than they had in the last village we'd lived in, and while I had no interest in discovering the process behind it, I did find it at least a little noteworthy.
I couldn't make out any of the details anyway. What little I could see was illuminated by the small lantern on my nightstand, but it was mostly just dark. Not that I was going to complain about it. This was how I liked my mornings. Quiet, alone, and without anyone to disturb my routine.
The ring of the bell tower cut through the night air, and I counted them out.
Five chimes, signalling the start of my day, but my own pocket clock hadn't reached the hour yet.
They were not in sync, and I wasn't sure what to do about that.
Did I obey my own clock or was the bell tower more likely to be right?
This wasn't the start to my day that I'd envisaged.
I stayed in bed for a few more minutes before getting out, feeling annoyed and frustrated for letting something small like this affect my mood.
I would simply have to set my clock to Purple Oak's bell tower rhythm and hope they ran together from now on.
Maybe mine had become out of sync while we were on the ship making the crossing.
I didn't know enough about that kind of thing to know whether it might have affected my timekeeping.
At least I was in control of the rest of my morning routine.
There was fresh water to wash my face, and I got dressed just how I liked it instead of how our governess used to insist on me doing it.
I used to hate it when she'd stand over me and insist on me folding my clothing in specific ways, almost all of which were annoying to me.
She'd been a step up from the nursemaid who used to tend to me and my cousins.
It had been a long time since she'd left our house, but I still thought about how roughly she would dress me.
She was always in a rush with me, maybe because I was only a tea witch instead of an esteemed weather witch like my cousins.
A bitter taste rose up in my throat at the thought, but I swallowed it down.
I didn't have time to lament about my life.
I needed to sort breakfast for myself, and then start organising things for Eva and Max.
There was going to be plenty for me to do now that we'd arrived in Purple Oak, and no doubt lots of people would want to speak to them about weather patterns and what exactly needed doing for the village in terms of tracking and influencing the weather.
I would be needed to ensure that people didn't start asking the twins for impossible things, or making demands that would exhaust them.
I'd seen that happen multiple times to our parents in the past.
I grabbed my personal bag with my breakfast ingredients and put on my indoor slippers because I refused to wear my outside shoes indoors even if that was pretty common in this part of the world, especially while in a place like the Town Hall. But that didn't make it feel right.
I slipped out of my room, glancing at the doors which led to Eva and Max's rooms, as well as those for our attendants.
It seemed like they were all still asleep, which wasn't unusual when there was no reason for them to be up at this time.
It wasn't up to them to figure out the agenda for the day and make sure everything was in order.
That was my job. I didn't necessarily like managing these things, but at least it made me useful.
I slowly made my way through the Town Hall, retracing the steps that Chamomile Brewster had shown us yesterday. It was difficult to think back over all the instructions while removing the memory of unnecessary chatter, but it didn't take me too long to find the kitchen.
Surprisingly, there was already movement, and a woman who looked about my age was moving around as if she spent her time here.
She was wearing simple clothes, but her brown hair was pinned up in a tight bun, which I appreciated considering she was preparing food.
I watched her for a moment, appreciating the confidence with which she moved around, something that I wasn't all that familiar with.
Was I allowed to go inside? Chamomile had said that we were supposed to make ourselves at home, but she hadn't said anything about the kitchens being used.
Though I supposed it made sense, she had said that our meals were going to be prepared for us, so I should have expected this.
The woman looked up and noticed me in the doorway. She smiled in a pleasant way that almost put me at ease. "Ah, good morning! You must be one of the new guests from overseas."
It took a moment for me to translate what she was saying, not having expected to use a language that wasn't my own so early in the morning. I nodded, bowing slightly. "I'm Lian Ju Feng, pleased to meet you."
"I'm Pepper. I'm the head of the kitchen. You're a little early for breakfast, I'm afraid. I'm serving it at half past six. I thought I had someone relay that to you."
"Chamomile Brewster mentioned it. But I usually eat before everyone else."
"Oh." She moved on to the workbench where she was working on a dough. "I don't have anything ready yet, I'm sorry. If I'd known, I would've kept some of my own breakfast aside."
"That's all right, I have brought my own ingredients.
I just need water and somewhere to boil my pot," I replied, wishing I could've made these arrangements last night, but there had been no opportunity for that during the welcome dinner.
Or anyone to really ask about it. I knew they were trying to make us feel welcome here, but there had been a lot of moving from one place to the other last night.
Pepper gave me a curious look before gesturing to an area by the stove. "Knock yourself out."
I assumed that meant she was happy for me to use it, but it wasn't a turn of phrase I'd learned while studying languages.
I wasn't particularly gifted at them, not in the way Eva was, but our parents had ensured that we learned all of the major languages that were spoken in the vicinity of where we lived, just to be sure that we could travel to Eva and Max's weather witch posting when they were old enough and in control of their magic.
"Thank you," I said instead of questioning her words.
There was ample space by the stove, and I filled my clay pot with water and rice, giving it all a rinse until there was no more excess starch hiding between the grains.
I kept the starch water in a separate flask and filled the pot with water until the rice was submerged.
Then I put it on the stove to heat it up with the rest of the ingredients.
It felt good to be completing my breakfast ritual because it had not been possible on the ship. I didn't blame the ship's cook for it, the kitchen had been far too small. So that was at least one advantage of being at Purple Oak.
Pepper didn't say anything for the first few minutes as I got everything set up, and I was only aware of her presence because I could hear her kneading the dough.
"Can I ask what you're making? It looks interesting," she said, breaking the silence between us but not stopping working on her bread.
I looked up from my pot, temporarily distracted by the moving muscles in her arms. There was something mesmerising about people kneading dough, and Pepper looked good doing it.
"Zhou. It's a rice porridge, you might call it congee," I said, holding back the exact details of how I made it. I had long learned that was not what people were asking when they showed interest in my food.
Pepper hummed. "Is it sweet or savoury?" She pulled her dough into a large boule and put it on a tray before covering it.
"Mostly savoury. I make mine with dried mushrooms, dried seafood, and marinated eggs. It's best with some fresh chives or scallions, but I don't have those," I said, hoping that wasn't too much information. Then again, she asked, so maybe she was actually interested?
Pepper came to have a closer look while her dough was resting. "Ahhh, I see. It looks similar to something the Steepers make. Should I have prepared something like that for all of you? I'm making fresh bread and serving it with sausages, bacon, and all sorts."
"Oh no, it's fine," I said quickly. "Eva and Max absolutely love that sort of breakfast, and trying new food.
I just like to start my day with a taste of home.
" We'd left my home region when I was too small to remember.
But my uncle had made zhou for us every morning for years, and would never let any of our cooks do it, so it reminded me of home in that way.
"If you like, I can make it for you tomorrow so you don't have to get up earlier," she offered.
My chest got tight like it always did when I was feeling nervous. I could tell that her request came from a good place, and those were the hardest to say no to. People usually didn't like being denied the chance to help.
"No, thank you. I'm particular about how it's made, so I prefer doing it myself," I said, worrying that she would be insulted.
People tended to be when they felt like I was doubting their skills, but the porridge had to be a specific texture, or it wasn't as tasty.
When I made it myself, I used the same ratios so that it always came out exactly the same.
Pepper just smiled and took a step back. "That makes sense. I'm like that about my bread buns. I don't let anyone else touch them."
What a relief, someone who understood. It gave me hope that completing my breakfast ritual every day would remain nice and peaceful.