Millie

Millie flipped a towel over her shoulder and looked back at Struthio, who was stirring the pot of creamy grains cooking over the grand kitchen hearth. “Th’ dough should be ready t’ rest now. I’ll work on the filling, if you can check th’ oven.” Carefully, she laid a thin layer of cheesecloth over the dough laid out in tidy mounds all over the floured wooden table. It was almost dawn, and soon the locals and the Travelers would be in for breakfast.

Quest: “Cinnamon Delivery Device” begun.

Produce at least 100 Cinnamon Rolls of ‘Excellent’ or better quality. (Repeatable)

Success: Reduced chance of producing a cooking ‘Failure’. Improved Relationship with anyone who ingests your baked goods.

Failure: Increased chance of producing a cooking ‘Failure’. Reduced Relationship with anyone who attempts to eat it.

She smiled to herself as she combined cinnamon, sugar, and just a pinch of salt together. She had whipped cream into rich, soft butter earlier, and it was waiting to go on the dough, once it had doubled in size. Fortunately, she had several skills that worked together to allow her yeast products to rise quickly and perfectly every time, so she wasn’t worried about the dough.

Her husband came over and looked down at the bowl as she finished stirring. “We got customers already, Millie. Should I give ‘em somethin’?” He looked nervous, and she smiled at him. Struthio had never been much of a talker, and he spoke even less since he’d spent several months in captivity the year before. Fortunately, she’d fallen in love with his heart, not his voice, so she didn’t worry about it, so long as he seemed happy. It did mean that he wasn’t particularly comfortable working the front of the inn, but their helpers should be arriving at any moment.

The back door to the kitchen burst open, and three dervishes whirled in. “Millieeeeee!” Ulie threw her arms around Millie’s waist, and hugged her tightly. The girl was nearly thirteen, and now that she had a safe place to live, people who loved her, and plenty to eat, she was blossoming into a cheerful and industrious young lady.

Millie wrapped one arm around the girl, careful to keep her floury hands away from the child’s clothing. “Aye, aye,” she said, fondly. “Get yerself out there. Them Travelers are here early again. Tell ‘em food’ll be ready soon enough, and they c’n have some brew or milk until then, and be thankful for it.”

Ulie grinned, flipping a single thumb up in acknowledgement, a gesture she had learned from Rouge, the young Traveler who had helped save them all when the city had been under attack several months ago. The girl motioned to Jiminy, who was slightly younger, slightly shorter, and filled with more mischief than a thousand children like Ulie. The two tied on aprons, and scampered out to the front.

Jack, Ulie’s older brother, had already taken his place beside Struthio. The lad was perhaps fourteen, and had shot up from his previous rather diminutive height now that he was eating enough for three children. No matter how much he ate, however, it all seemed to go toward height, and he was still as skinny and gangly as ever. Millie cast a fond glance at the two, who were like as two peas in a pod, other than the fact that Struthio was pleasantly plump, and the boy looked like a twig beside him.

Lionel was waiting patiently beside Millie. The lad was about the same age as Jack, though his friend had recently surpassed him in height. The boy had shown an instinctive skill in the kitchen, however, and Millie had taken him on as a sort of apprentice. Now, she glanced over at him, setting her mixing bowl aside.

“Pancakes today, my lad,” she said, nodding toward the magical cooling cabinet Consort Aspen had recently acquired for her. It was still a bit odd to think of him as a mere consort, and not a King, but in spite of being married to Queen Sarave (with their first babe on the way, no less!), he insisted on taking a distant back seat to his goblin wife.

She shook her head as she helped Lionel gather all the ingredients they’d need for the pancakes. That was strange, too. In North Goose, the small town where she’d been born, any non-human would probably have been driven out if they’d even tried to visit. She’d never have imagined that she’d someday live in a place where marriages between members of different races was just a fact of life, and the children of those marriages celebrated just as much as ones produced from a pure-blood family.

She began separating eggs, triggering [Ingredient Duplication] and [Perfect Split] as she did. Now that she was able to cook for so many, so often, her skills had grown almost as quickly as had their little town. People of all kinds came from all over, and as long as they were able to settle in peacefully, they were welcomed. In fact, a goblin family had just opened a new restaurant a few blocks away, and Millie fully intended to go try it next time she had a moment to breathe, even though people were saying there were a lot of insects on the menu. Millie didn’t mind eating a grub or two, so long as they tasted good. If she got lucky, and her [Cooking Intuition] kicked in, she might even learn a new recipe to serve her own customers.

With all of the whites and yolks separated, Millie handed the bowl of whites off to Lionel. The boy hadn’t quite developed enough arm strength and endurance to get stiff peaks yet, but he could whip up soft peaks just fine. She began to combine the dry ingredients for the pancakes into an enormous, albeit slightly lopsided, bowl Aspen had given her to celebrate the opening of the inn. The drooping lip actually made pouring batter from it easier, and if it was a bit too large and heavy for most people, well, Millie had beaten a great deal of bread dough into submission, and no one would ever claim she was a weakling.

Once the batter was put together, and Lionel was gently folding the egg whites into the mix, she looked around in satisfaction. Ulie was bustling in and out, gathering warm brew from the pot on the stove, or cold milk from the cooling cabinet. Jiminy, of course, did very little actual work, but he was entertaining, and he could use his [Ventriloquism] skill to send orders back to the kitchen without even leaving his post.

She could hear a low murmur coming from the front of the inn, so she knew more customers were arriving. They weren’t due to open for another forty minutes, but the Travelers either couldn’t tell time, or didn’t care, because they would show up at all hours, demanding food. They always seemed surprised when she told them to come back when they were open, but they generally started chattering about ‘how realistic the NPCs are in Refuge’, and didn’t really seem to mind. As far as she was concerned, the whole lot of them were mad, but they paid well, and tipped better, so she’d not turn them away.

She tossed a few drops of water into the wide pan heating on the stove and smiled when they sizzled and popped. “Th’ pan’s ready for bacon an’ sausage, m’love,” she called to Struthio, who was washing their used dishes so they’d be ready to use again.

Struthio nodded, his smile crinkling the corners of his soft blue eyes. She loved how gentle he was. It was the first thing she’d noticed about him. While most of the men in Nor’ Goose were busy yelling at their pigs, Struthio had used calm, kind patience to train the gaggle of gangly ostriches that had hatched from the eggs he’d bought from a traveling merchant. Even when he was unable to sell the last male ostrich, who he’d named Codswallop, he hadn’t taken his frustration out on the bird, but had instead switched to teaching the beast to carry a rider, in hopes of selling him as a mount.

As Struthio plopped meat into the pan, Millie turned to check on Jack and Lionel. Jack was stirring the porridge, keeping it from sticking to the bottom of the pot as it finished cooking. Lionel had the batter done, and she wrapped her arm around his shoulders and gave him a quick hug as she saw how beautifully fluffy it was.

“Good job, there, lad. Y’ didn’t knock th’ air outta the eggs. Let’s get to cookin’, before it goes flat, though, eh?”

Lionel grinned, an expression she hadn’t been sure he could make when he and Jiminy had first been assigned to work in the kitchen with her. At the time, it had been a punishment for sneaking out of the city and risking their lives during the siege, but once Ulie and Jack had shown up, stubbornly insisting that they, too, were at fault for not stopping their friends, they had formed a well-organized team.

While the other three children had become more confident (not that that rascal Jiminy needed any more confidence), it was Lionel who had changed the most. When he first showed up on their doorstep, Plum gripping him and Jiminy by their ears, Lionel had been a surly, distrustful boy. The only time he smiled was when he was around Ulie, and he was constantly on edge, ready to protect his friends from anything, including the adults who were theoretically there to care for them.

It had been Struthio who lured him out, of course. Her husband’s calm, unflappable patience had won out against Lionel’s angry outbursts and refusal to do anything he hadn’t specially been told to do. The day he washed some dishes without being asked had been a quiet victory that had brought proud and grateful smiles from both Millie and Struthio. Under those smiles, Lionel had straightened his shoulders, as if realizing for the first time that he truly had a place he belonged, and people who were happy he was there.

Not long after, he had volunteered to help Millie make the morning bread, and when his loaves rose and baked to perfect golden brown, she had given him the task from then on. When he tentatively suggested mixing Bitter Herb and Blue Grass together in a new recipe, they supported him, and helped him figure out a good amount of each ingredient to combine, so the flavors would be present, but not overwhelming. The resulting bread was a soft, pretty blue, and smelled of warm yeast and spring fields, and soon became one of the house specialities.

As she, Struthio, and the children bustled about, preparing breakfast for their hungry customers, she caught Struthio’s gaze and smiled at him. His eyes crinkled, and he nodded back, winking conspiratorially.

❦ ❦ ❦

Running a restaurant called for a lot of hard work, and very long days. The children left after they finished cleaning up after breakfast, making room for the lunch-time workers, who had been hired when Millie and Struthio realized that they could no longer handle the rushes of customers alone any longer. Ulie, Jack, Jiminy, and Lionel had lessons to attend, but usually they would return the next morning to help out again.

Of course, today Millie and Struthio had arranged with Plum, the headmistress of the Refuge school and orphanage, to have the children come back that evening for a very special meal. At least, Millie and her husband hoped it would be special, though as the day drew to a close, Millie found herself growing worried. She glanced at Struthio more and more often, and each time, as though sensing her concern, he offered her that calm, sweet smile she loved so dearly.

At last, Millie closed the door behind the last of the customers. There were still guests in the inn upstairs, of course, but Olive ran that part of the business, so Millie and Struthio were free for a few hours. Millie sighed, looking up at her husband. He was one of the few men taller than her, and when he wrapped his broad arms around her, she curled into his chest, enjoying the solid feeling of his body against her.

“D’you think it’ll really be all right?” she asked, trying to stay calm as nervous jitters threatened to overtake her.

He nodded, his chin brushing her hair gently. “Aye, lass.”

As if on cue, a knock came at the door to the kitchen. They exchanged one last worried, hopeful glance, and Struthio released her so he could open the door.

The children tumbled in, looking excited but curious as they looked around the quiet kitchen. Plum smiled as they turned back to her, curious.

“You said we needed to help with a party, Miss Plum!” Jiminy said, almost accusatory. “I thought there’d be cake!”

Ulie and the others looked a little embarrassed, but nodded in agreement. Clearly, cake had been a motivating factor in getting them there. Fortunately, Millie had planned for that, but they needed to have a talk first.

She stepped back and motioned to the kitchen table, which had nothing on it except a few bowls containing doughs that needed to rise overnight. Her [Fast Rise] skill made it so her doughs rarely needed that much time, but for new recipes, she still had to do it the old-fashioned way. Seven chairs sat arrayed around the table, waiting for the visitors to sit.

“We asked Miss Plum t’bring you here. We have somethin’ we need t’talk about.”

Instantly, Lionel’s face shut down. He had been hurt and betrayed so many times that his first thought was probably that they were going to tell them they didn’t need to come and help any more. Sure enough, he lagged behind the others as they scattered toward the seats, his expression dark and closed.

Once everyone was seated, Plum spoke, looking toward the children. Ulie and Jack sat together, as usual, with Lionel beside Ulie, leaning protectively toward her, and Jiminy on Jack’s other side. “Now, you know that our orphanage is getting pretty full,” she said, and the children nodded. In spite of the multitude of bunkbeds that occupied the bedrooms in the orphanage, there was rarely an empty bed. While it was rare for a Refuge child to become an orphan, people who had heard that such children were well-cared-for here brought new ones in all the time. A few of the older ones even came alone, leaving behind whatever town or city they originated in. The younger children generally found homes fairly quickly, since people in Refuge had enough food and space to be able to accept more children into their families, but the older ones, like these four, remained until they grew old enough to live on their own. Honestly, in any other town, the teenagers would probably have already been kicked out.

All four children were looking worried, now, and Plum hastened on before they could make any frightening (and incorrect) assumptions. “I’ve been speaking to her Majesty and various villagers, to see if anyone could house a few of you older children, who can help out around the house in exchange for giving you a safe, and hopefully more comfortable, place to sleep. When I talked to Millie and Struthio, however, they had a different proposition.” She turned toward the couple, dark eyes expectant.

Beneath the table, Millie grasped Struthio’s hand. Together, they turned toward the quartet of children, whose expressions had lightened, but not entirely relaxed.

“We’d like t’ adopt you,” Millie blurted. “All of you. We want you t’ be our family, if you want us. I know y’ had parents before, and we’re not going t’ try t’ take their place, but we love you, an’-”

She stopped. Ulie was crying. Huge, silent tears poured down the girl’s face, and her brother looked like he, too, was about to burst out sobbing. For once, Jiminy looked utterly flummoxed, and his mouth opened and closed. For once, he seemed completely speechless.

Millie waved her hands, trying to find the right words. These children were already more highly educated than her, and probably smarter, too, but she could usually find something to say to help smooth over troubled waters. This time, however, she was at a loss, and she just looked helplessly at Struthio.

Her husband just smiled, though there was a suspicious brightness in his own eyes. “If’n ye’d be willin’ t’ be ours, well,” he said slowly, “we’d be might glad t’be yours, as well.”

Ulie gave up, and began bawling in truth. But through her tears, she nodded, over and over, holding her hands out toward Millie and Struthio. Jack was hugging her tightly, but he, too, nodded vigorously. Millie, heart full to overflowing, leapt from her seat and hurried toward them, embracing the children she could now call her own.

Beside Jack, Jiminy had finally found his voice. From around the room, a chorus of different voices whooped and shouted, “Yes!” over and over again. His grin threatened to reach his ears, and he joined in the new family’s hug.

Only Lionel hung back. There was an expression of longing on his face, but he slowly shook his head. “I… can’t,” he said, softly. His eyes, dark brown and full of conflicting emotions, went from Millie to Ulie, finally returning to Ulie and staying there. “I don’t… I can’t be…” He frowned, and swiped at his eye, knocking away an unwelcome tear, and Millie suddenly had an idea what was bothering him.

Walking over to his side, she leaned in close, whispering for his ears alone, “You can’t be Ulie’s brother, eh?” She suspected his feelings for the girl weren’t exactly fraternal, but she hadn’t known he was aware of it himself. His eyes met her, and he bit his lip, nodding. She smiled back, placing a finger on her lips, silently vowing to keep the moment just between them.

She kept a hand on his shoulder, but stepped back. “Will y’ be my apprentice, then, lad? It’ll be hard work, an’ you’ll have to come back here after your lessons are over. You can walk the other three home, of an evenin’, an’ then you’ll have t’ help me get ready for th’ mornin’ rush. No more sleepin’ in ‘till dawn, either.”

A brilliant smile overtook his face, transforming him from a cranky teenager to the rather handsome young man he was growing into. “Aye!” he exclaimed. He glanced at Plum, and flushed at her chastising look. “I mean, yes! Yes, please.”

Millie looked around at her new daughter, sons, and apprentice, and then met her husband’s eyes. He was only smiling quietly, but she could see the true, deep joy in his eyes. “Well,” she said, walking toward the cooling cabinet. “This calls for cake!”

Resounding cheers filled her kitchen, and her heart.