Beneath the moonlit streets of Aquina Town, a stray dived between the alleys, the soft padding of its paws echoing against the silence which pervaded the streets at night.
This was not Reitzlake, where many woke only when evening began. Here, the leaves brushing against the earthen roads was all the cacophony to disturb the slumbering of its people–as well as the footsteps of a princess and a clockwork doll, fresh from a successful venture through fire and ice.
As Coppelia and I walked through the streets of this perpetually disappointing town, we were greeted by the dimming of windows and the closing of shutters. Lanterns and candles burned out in respect of my coming. Whatever light that was required, my radiance would provide as I passed.
Only the pale moonlight existed alongside my brilliance.
It shone between scatterings of clouds, and yet even its light only sought to reflect the path ahead of me. Twigs, holes and stones were illuminated with the disdain they deserved, ensuring that I strolled as purposefully at night as I did in day.
Because I was a princess.
And here in my kingdom, even the moon sought to earn my good graces.
If only my bottomless pouch felt the same.
“Huh, weird,” said Coppelia, sharing my sentiments as she peeked at the pouch in my hands. “I didn't know magic pouches could get smaller. I thought they stayed the same size.”
I let out a quiet groan.
Of course, of all the enchanted bags in the world, I'd have the only one which showed when it was in danger of becoming empty.
I weighed my bottomless pouch in my hands, even though I could feel little in the sense of weight at all. Because within this was the final dregs of my first earnings.
30 gold crowns.
It was, in many respects, a monumental moment in my life as a princess of the people. 30 gold crowns earned by the blood and sweat of a house that was now missing a wall, and a dryad that was now being used as an ingredient for either an alchemist's concoction or an experimental entrée.
Even so, there was no joy to be had. Only confusion.
30 gold crowns. Ordinarily, that was sufficient for two months' stay at an inn with a cracked ceiling. Meaning I only had one month's stay at an inn I actually deemed acceptable. And that didn't cover my food expenses.
More pertinently, it didn't cover Coppelia and Apple's food expenses.
Despite the fact that both of them were content to eat whatever grew from the ground, they still mysteriously burned through crowns as if they skipped the step where they bought food and just ate the coins instead.
I did the sums in my head, all the while ruing the lack of a single preserved coin in Aquina's melted hoard. Though destined to become the next set of cutlery at my dinner table, the gold was now tucked away behind a runed door, unusable except as a carpet to slip on.
And that meant an audit of my current finances.
“I think there's been a mistake,” I said, frowning.
Coppelia tilted her head without a shred of concern.
“A mistake?”
“In our payment for the dryad.”
I opened up the bottomless pouch. Only the coins from the sack of the maid lady, Renee, Relize … Renise, would save us now. It was troubling. I intended to avoid dipping into my farm boys-to-heroes fund unless absolutely necessary, but necessity was a foe readily invited by the stomachs of my retainers.
“Did the receptionist give you the wrong amount of crowns?”
“No, she gave me 30 gold crowns.”
“Soooo, then what's the mistake?”
“Split between myself, a gluttonous clockwork doll and a horse who enjoys eating only daisies or very expensive apples, I would need to defeat a dryad a week in order to cover our living costs.”
Culprit #1 nodded.
“Mmh, that seems reasonable. And the mistake is … ?”
“The mistake is that I would need to work at least once a week. That seems excessively high.”
“I mean, that's just how it works if you only stay in inns without Silly, Billy and Milly in them. I hope they're doing well.”
“The cost of our accommodation pales in comparison to our food expenses. And as staying in an inn with … Silly, Billy and Milly is utterly out of the question, this means that compromises will have to be made.”
“I didn't know you did compromises.”
“Coppelia. Every day that I strive to single-handedly safeguard those residing in this kingdom from their own fires is an exercise in compromise. I put aside my important duties in sleeping, eating, gardening and being happy, and in return, the nobility learns to pay their due and lawful tax.”
And not just nobility.
Sword saints as well.
I pursed my lips. The image of a broken pillar lacking an elven woman buried in its rubble flickered across my mind.
For the crime of multiple counts of burglary against the kingdom, attempted murder, abetting treason and doubting my ability to utilise Starlight Grace for lockpicking, Ophelia the Snow Dancer would meet a fate where both her handiwork and her long years would be utilised to their fullest.
Where she was now was a mystery. But that was merely a stay of her sentencing. Her judgement was already complete. And when I provided it, I would ensure that both she and Marzipan Lainsfont would be side by side in crafting the finest bespoke soap bars known to this continent.
Coppelia peered thoughtfully up at the dark sky.
“Question.”
“Go on.”
“If you're a princess, and your nobility aren't paying their due and lawful tax, then isn't you slapping them about with your [Ball Of Doom] not so much a compromise as it is just you doing your expected job?”
“Ohoho … ohohoho … ohohohohoho …”
I smiled, wiping a tear that was threatening to form in my eyes.
Ah, Coppelia. She truly did say the most amusing things sometimes.
One of these days, when I wished to see first-hand how Ouzelia's policy of officially salaried heroes functioned in practice, I might also spare a detour to thank the doll makers at her workshop. As well as her loyalty and her ability to carry large quantities of luggage, I did enjoy her occasional jests.
“Very amusing, Coppelia.”
“Eh?”
“However, this is a serious matter of discussion. The crowns from the dryad commission are now depleted. Thus, compromises will have to be made.”
“Does this mean we'll sleep in worse inns, stop buying those super red premium apples and cut chocolate crêpes from our diet?”
“What? No, of course not. By compromise, I obviously mean everyone else will have to start charging us less for products and services.”
“Oh. My bad.”
Really now! The people had little idea how magnanimous I was in allowing myself to be swindled by paying the standard rate for everything. As royalty, I was entitled to an automatic 120% discount on all goods!
This meant that I should be paid for gracing any establishment!
Yes … even if it was a tiny food stall pushed against the side of a wall, its owner a halfling boasting a dishevelled mess of unshaven beard and roughspun clothing.
He stood upon a box as he smiled at me, his glinting teeth more visible in the dim evening than the fire burning beneath his metal pot.
“Welcome, lasses!” he called out before I had a chance to opt for a different street. “Last orders! How do you feel about a sandwich melt? Two-for-one. My final deal of the evening!”
I rolled my eyes, prepared to stroll by as I made for the nearest roofed establishment.
After all, it was a sight unworthy of my attention.
A peasant and his meagre fare, sold by the side of the street for the hoodlums and troublemakers who were refused entry into restaurants.
And yet–
“... Peasant. What is this?”
I suddenly paused.
The unshaven man looked momentarily aggrieved, as they always did before my royal aura and my status as a potential customer turned their indignation back into a smile.
“This?” said the halfling, lifting the lid of his pot in such a way as to ensure the aroma was swept towards me. “Why, this is only the most popular food item in Aquina, the finest of which is sold only by my hands!”
Confusion racked me as I attempted to identify the aroma.
Indeed, such a shabby looking merchant and his street fare was undeserving of my time. But I was a princess of worldly knowledge. My knowledge of cuisine was unparalleled. I'd experienced the sweetness of Lissoine and the spiciness of the Dunes before I'd even exited my cot.
And that meant I shouldn't be so perplexed as to what I was smelling ... most notably because it didn't compel me to immediately vomit.
“What is it?” I queried, expectations low as I allowed curiosity to take the reins for a short moment. “I don't recognise this combination of aromas.”
“Nor would you, if you've never tried it before. The steamed brioche offers a tantalising sweetness, shielding the pungency of the grilled beef patty and the layer of melted gruyère. But above them is Aquina's secret. Red onions, butterhead lettuce and sweet tomatoes, all freshly picked by yours truly this very morning.”
I looked at this halfling in bewilderment. Every word he spoke I understood, and yet I failed to parse a single thing he'd said.
“Brioche? Sweet pastry with beef and … melted cheese? W-What is this? Are you suggesting some concoction involving all of this? Is that a bizarre stew in the pot?”
The halfling chuckled.
Then, he picked up a pair of wooden tongs and reached into the pot.
What he withdrew was assuredly the most ghastly food item I'd witnessed in my life.
A round brioche roll, sliced in half. And within it, stuffed like a grotesque éclair were all the combinations of the things mentioned. A thick slice of grilled beef, its fat dripping down the lower half of the buttered pastry as it sat on a leaf of lettuce. And upon the beef, white cheese layered like a sauce as it melted amongst the steaming onions and tomatoes.
The halfling watched my expression closely.
Then, he smiled as he offered the … thing towards me.
“A sandwich melt is as the name implies– a hot sandwich, one boasting the highest sales of any prepared food item in the duchy! Utilising two halves of a roll of brioche pastry and Aquina's finest produce in between, it's favoured for its convenience, taste and affordability! Indeed, it's only now that the sun has fully set that I can finally even think about closing shop!”
The halfling, small was he was, appeared giant as his enterprising smile bore down on me. I responded by closely studying the insult to high cuisine before me, feeling for all the world like I was committing gourmet treason simply by taking in its chaotic appearance.
“Is this eaten with one's hands?”
“Well, you're free to use your feet if you want. I guarantee, soon as it touches your mouth, you won't care how you eat it.”
I doubted that.
It was, frankly, an absolute travesty.
A whole meal in bread! Why, to even think about consuming something so slovenly was as poor as whatever the result would be! There was a reason cutlery existed! Where were the napkins? The bowls of lemon water? The absolute mess that would occur, and nothing to clean it!
I turned my eyes away.
Yes, morbid curiosity had momentarily grappled the worldly gourmand in me. But I was a princess. And while I'd purchased pastries from stalls, it was always using Coppelia as an intermediary.
But that was not enough here.
Even the barest association with having purchased such a messy pile of crudely mashed together ingredients was too much!
“I … I thank you for the explanation. However, both me and my future handmaiden are currently on the way to–”
I felt a tug on my hand.
I turned around, and to my horror, saw Coppelia staring at me with unblinking eyes, a trickle of drool running down the side of her lips.
“C-Coppelia!” I swiftly grabbed her arm, using her sleeves to wipe off the drool. “Your appearance! You must maintain it even at the cost of your life! Rather, to drool is to die! Don't do it!”
She looked at me uncomprehendingly, all conscious thought erased as I witnessed only the image of a greasy sandwich in her eyes.
Just like that, my future handmaiden had been brought low where even flames had failed.
I quietly groaned, then glanced at the halfling.
“P-Perhaps … just the one … for her.”
The halfling responded by picking up another sandwich melt with a second pair of tongs. He wore the smile of a seasoned vendor.
“Sure? I did say it's a two-for-one offer.”
I gulped.
There … There was simply no possibility!
I was a princess, and this was clearly inappropriate as a victory feast! Tonight was an occasion to be celebrated! After all, it had all the hallmarks of my resounding success! I'd brought low the Duchy of Aquina and negotiated the Winter Queen's departure!
Just because I was somewhat curious didn't mean it actually tasted any–
“It's sooooooooooo yummy~” said Coppelia through a mouthful of everything. “Sooooooooooooooooo yummy~”
I wavered.
The expression on her face!
Why, it was nothing short of delirium!
For … For such a profound effect to occur on a clockwork doll, immune to all mind altering magic, this food could only be highly potent! Dangerous, rather!
I … I had no choice!
As a princess of this kingdom, I had to ensure that safety standards were being met!
“T-Thank you ...” I said, cautiously accepting the unsalvageable mess in my hands. “I … I shall take a small sample now … in order to ascertain its quality as unique fare of this kingdom ...”
“Go ahead.” The halfling raised his thumb. “It has my seal of approval.”
I hesitated, peering at the mess of oil and melted cheese.
As I squeezed, a trickle of fat ran down the brioche, itself slathered in a sheen of butter. The vegetables peeked out at me, a contrast of colour and healthiness amongst the promise of grease.
Even … Even so …
The aroma was …
I paused, glanced at Coppelia once more, then slowly raised it to my mouth.
Just a single bite would do. Just to confirm my suspicions. It took more than novelty to earn a respite from my scathingly high standards. When this insult to presentation revealed itself for what it was, I'd spare no critique at its expense!
“I … I warn you, Sir Halfling … I have the tongue of a seasoned gourmand! I cannot be defeated by something as slipshod as this! W-Why, there's simply no possibility that this unsightly, sloppy, abominable mess of om nom nom nom nom is sooooooooo good?!”
T-The flavours!
They all came together!
Fresh and crisp vegetables crunching against the melted softness of bread, cheese and meat so tender that it fell apart in my mouth!
The food was a travesty! And yet the thought behind its design couldn't be denied! Here was a culinary evolution! A creation which was an entrée, dinner and dessert all combined in one!
Why, each bite that I experienced was an amalgamation of textures and flavours, each slow chew a sampling of perfectly measured seasoning … until … huh?
Where did it all go?
I blinked, looking down at my hands shorn of something far greater than the sum of its parts. And then I was drawn towards the laughter of the halfling, whose cart's handles were being lifted in his palms behind him.
He was about to leave!
“W-Wait!” I said, my mind spinning as I desperately gathered my senses. “I … I haven't paid … that was ...”
“That was your first sandwich melt, eh? Then you can have it on the house. Or the cart, rather.”
“Excuse me?”
Of all the things to earn my disbelief, this now assumed the top spot.
I was being subjected to charity! The indignity!
“It's been a while since I've seen expressions like you two have made,” he said, the wheels on his cart shifting. “That's payment enough. For me, at least. Don't expect this from the wannabes after my recipe, though.”
My mouth opened wordlessly as the halfling began trundling away, a whistle forming on his lips as he considered his evening finished.
I could not permit him to leave!
He … He was a clear and present danger to the people! Why, with gastronomy as diabolical as his, the world of haute cuisine would be overturned in an instant! Trained chefs would cease to julienne carrots and focus only on melting blocks of cheese instead!
I had to remove him at once. And I knew just the way to do so!
“Sir Halfling, I'm currently on a noble quest to save this kingdom from financial collapse and the threat of revolution. Should you wish to join me as my personal chef, I will permit you a place by my side.”
To my surprise, the halfling merely chuckled at my unprecedented offer. His eyes glanced down at the copper ring around my finger.
“Saving the kingdom, huh? … How nostalgic.”
I blinked at his unexpected response.
And then, I peered at him again–seeing past the unshaven beard and at the bright eyes, the skin wrinkled with sun and age, and the faint remnants of a scar still lingered across his cheek.
“Excuse me? Are you perhaps a halfling of renown?”
“Me? Nah. I'm just a vendor of Aquina's finest junk food. Although … have you perhaps ever heard of the Golden Hogs?”
“The Golden Hogs? No. Is that the name of the restaurant where you trained?”
The halfling offered a quiet smile.
“Sure. Let's call it that.” He nodded, then began trundling away. “Good night to the both of you. Thank you for visiting my stall. And may fair weather bless you with saving the kingdom, adventurer.”
And then, he went–whistling a merry tune as both he and his cart broke the quiet of Aquina's night.
Only when his cart had receded into the distance did I finally endeavour to shake myself from my stupor.
The sandwich melt … it was far too powerful!
That's it! Once I returned to the Royal Villa, I would need to make inquiries, describing in exact detail the composition and ingredients used … so that I could outlaw it!
Indeed, I would even have it made daily so that its dangers would never be forgotten!
“I need more of that,” said Coppelia, her eyes still slightly in a daze as she watched the fading silhouette of the halfling's cart. Her hands were long empty. “It was so oily that I feel more cogs spinning faster. That made coming all the way out here only to be shouted at by the big guy for not saying hello more often worth it~”
And thus–
My mind was fully brought back to the here and now.
Because as shockingly palatable as that breaded concoction was, it compared little to the taste of success I experienced this evening. And that had come about with the assistance of my loyal future handmaiden, whose presence I would continue to rely upon in the days ahead.
I was very interested in a conversation with anyone who believed they had the authority to change that state of affairs.
“Coppelia. I believe it's time to inquire about the nature of that excessively loud voice you were conversing with.”
“Oh, that. I thought you might have missed it.”
“Unlikely. I can still feel the echoes. An impressive ability. Your … Curator is a mage, I take it?”
Coppelia hummed, her eyes glancing away in thought.
“Well … I suppose, sure?”
“Is he not?”
“No, he definitely is. Although it's not really the first thing you think of when you see him. You'll understand if you meet him. And I have a feeling you will. You'd definitely be allowed in the library, I think. At least once. You'll love it!”
“An interesting proposition, but I'd first need to know the barest details about what it is and where it is first.”
Coppelia offered a mischievous grin, leaning in slightly as she sought to mask her words.
“It's your everyday secret library hidden in the deepest forests of Ouzelia, accessible by invitation only … or knowing where to go. Want me to tell you how to find it?”
I shook my head at once.
“Unnecessary. Should I ever visit your library, it'll be with you leading me at a comfortable pace … which is why I'm curious regarding your response should this Curator ever ask for your return.”
Coppelia dismissed any concerns with a giggle and a flick of her wrist.
“I'm a rebel, you know~? If I'm ever asked to go back, I'd definitely find a way to loiter. At least until I've done what I came here for. It's just easier with official permission.”
“The only permission you require is mine. Any princess would struggle without their retainers, and I'm no exception. My hair is far too complicated to maintain on its own.”
“I mean, I get I do weird things in my sleep sometimes, but I don't think I've ever helped maintain your hair … have I?”
“You haven't. That's another skill to be taught. One higher up the priority list. And until you've performed all your duties admirably, reached a supervisory role and can delegate all responsibility to a band of tearful maids, I will not permit you to leave. I see now that my kingdom is far too vast for me to travel alone.”
“Going by geographic size, it's still the second small–”
“Shhshhshshhshhh! I-In any case, I wish to make it plainly obvious that you're not to leave my side … f-for any reason! Until I've released you from your future burdens, I expect to see you assisting me with every menial task and petty whim!”
Coppelia gave her most bemused smile yet.
She performed a single hop towards me, then bumped her hip against mine.
As my mouth opened wordlessly to this flagrant assault against my person, she'd already begun skipping away.
“Got it~ I'm not going anywhere. At least not until I've eaten a few more sandwich melts. Do you think they'll sell them at the inns?”
Whistling as much as the halfling, she bounced away down the street.
I waited until I made sure she wasn't turning around, then offered a small smile at her back before following.
Tomorrow would bring a new day. And while I couldn't predict what contrived challenges I would face in my bid to restore my quality of life, I did know one thing.
That I would trample every obstacle before me.
And when I did, I would have my loyal future handmaiden by my side, ready to rescue me, carry me, and laugh with me in that particular order.
And no booming voice could change that.
Because no matter how loud it was, mine was still greater.
Beneath the moonlit streets of Aquina Town, a stray dived between the alleys, the soft padding of its paws echoing against the silence which pervaded the streets at night.
This was not Reitzlake, where many woke only when evening began. Here, the leaves brushing against the earthen roads was all the cacophony to disturb the slumbering of its people–as well as the footsteps of a princess and a clockwork doll, fresh from a successful venture through fire and ice.
As Coppelia and I walked through the streets of this perpetually disappointing town, we were greeted by the dimming of windows and the closing of shutters. Lanterns and candles burned out in respect of my coming. Whatever light that was required, my radiance would provide as I passed.
Only the pale moonlight existed alongside my brilliance.
It shone between scatterings of clouds, and yet even its light only sought to reflect the path ahead of me. Twigs, holes and stones were illuminated with the disdain they deserved, ensuring that I strolled as purposefully at night as I did in day.
Because I was a princess.
And here in my kingdom, even the moon sought to earn my good graces.
If only my bottomless pouch felt the same.
“Huh, weird,” said Coppelia, sharing my sentiments as she peeked at the pouch in my hands. “I didn't know magic pouches could get smaller. I thought they stayed the same size.”
I let out a quiet groan.
Of course, of all the enchanted bags in the world, I'd have the only one which showed when it was in danger of becoming empty.
I weighed my bottomless pouch in my hands, even though I could feel little in the sense of weight at all. Because within this was the final dregs of my first earnings.
30 gold crowns.
It was, in many respects, a monumental moment in my life as a princess of the people. 30 gold crowns earned by the blood and sweat of a house that was now missing a wall, and a dryad that was now being used as an ingredient for either an alchemist's concoction or an experimental entrée.
Even so, there was no joy to be had. Only confusion.
30 gold crowns. Ordinarily, that was sufficient for two months' stay at an inn with a cracked ceiling. Meaning I only had one month's stay at an inn I actually deemed acceptable. And that didn't cover my food expenses.
More pertinently, it didn't cover Coppelia and Apple's food expenses.
Despite the fact that both of them were content to eat whatever grew from the ground, they still mysteriously burned through crowns as if they skipped the step where they bought food and just ate the coins instead.
I did the sums in my head, all the while ruing the lack of a single preserved coin in Aquina's melted hoard. Though destined to become the next set of cutlery at my dinner table, the gold was now tucked away behind a runed door, unusable except as a carpet to slip on.
And that meant an audit of my current finances.
“I think there's been a mistake,” I said, frowning.
Coppelia tilted her head without a shred of concern.
“A mistake?”
“In our payment for the dryad.”
I opened up the bottomless pouch. Only the coins from the sack of the maid lady, Renee, Relize … Renise, would save us now. It was troubling. I intended to avoid dipping into my farm boys-to-heroes fund unless absolutely necessary, but necessity was a foe readily invited by the stomachs of my retainers.
“Did the receptionist give you the wrong amount of crowns?”
“No, she gave me 30 gold crowns.”
“Soooo, then what's the mistake?”
“Split between myself, a gluttonous clockwork doll and a horse who enjoys eating only daisies or very expensive apples, I would need to defeat a dryad a week in order to cover our living costs.”
Culprit #1 nodded.
“Mmh, that seems reasonable. And the mistake is … ?”
“The mistake is that I would need to work at least once a week. That seems excessively high.”
“I mean, that's just how it works if you only stay in inns without Silly, Billy and Milly in them. I hope they're doing well.”
“The cost of our accommodation pales in comparison to our food expenses. And as staying in an inn with … Silly, Billy and Milly is utterly out of the question, this means that compromises will have to be made.”
“I didn't know you did compromises.”
“Coppelia. Every day that I strive to single-handedly safeguard those residing in this kingdom from their own fires is an exercise in compromise. I put aside my important duties in sleeping, eating, gardening and being happy, and in return, the nobility learns to pay their due and lawful tax.”
And not just nobility.
Sword saints as well.
I pursed my lips. The image of a broken pillar lacking an elven woman buried in its rubble flickered across my mind.
For the crime of multiple counts of burglary against the kingdom, attempted murder, abetting treason and doubting my ability to utilise Starlight Grace for lockpicking, Ophelia the Snow Dancer would meet a fate where both her handiwork and her long years would be utilised to their fullest.
Where she was now was a mystery. But that was merely a stay of her sentencing. Her judgement was already complete. And when I provided it, I would ensure that both she and Marzipan Lainsfont would be side by side in crafting the finest bespoke soap bars known to this continent.
Coppelia peered thoughtfully up at the dark sky.
“Question.”
“Go on.”
“If you're a princess, and your nobility aren't paying their due and lawful tax, then isn't you slapping them about with your [Ball Of Doom] not so much a compromise as it is just you doing your expected job?”
“Ohoho … ohohoho … ohohohohoho …”
I smiled, wiping a tear that was threatening to form in my eyes.
Ah, Coppelia. She truly did say the most amusing things sometimes.
One of these days, when I wished to see first-hand how Ouzelia's policy of officially salaried heroes functioned in practice, I might also spare a detour to thank the doll makers at her workshop. As well as her loyalty and her ability to carry large quantities of luggage, I did enjoy her occasional jests.
“Very amusing, Coppelia.”
“Eh?”
“However, this is a serious matter of discussion. The crowns from the dryad commission are now depleted. Thus, compromises will have to be made.”
“Does this mean we'll sleep in worse inns, stop buying those super red premium apples and cut chocolate crêpes from our diet?”
“What? No, of course not. By compromise, I obviously mean everyone else will have to start charging us less for products and services.”
“Oh. My bad.”
Really now! The people had little idea how magnanimous I was in allowing myself to be swindled by paying the standard rate for everything. As royalty, I was entitled to an automatic 120% discount on all goods!
This meant that I should be paid for gracing any establishment!
Yes … even if it was a tiny food stall pushed against the side of a wall, its owner a halfling boasting a dishevelled mess of unshaven beard and roughspun clothing.
He stood upon a box as he smiled at me, his glinting teeth more visible in the dim evening than the fire burning beneath his metal pot.
“Welcome, lasses!” he called out before I had a chance to opt for a different street. “Last orders! How do you feel about a sandwich melt? Two-for-one. My final deal of the evening!”
I rolled my eyes, prepared to stroll by as I made for the nearest roofed establishment.
After all, it was a sight unworthy of my attention.
A peasant and his meagre fare, sold by the side of the street for the hoodlums and troublemakers who were refused entry into restaurants.
And yet–
“... Peasant. What is this?”
I suddenly paused.
The unshaven man looked momentarily aggrieved, as they always did before my royal aura and my status as a potential customer turned their indignation back into a smile.
“This?” said the halfling, lifting the lid of his pot in such a way as to ensure the aroma was swept towards me. “Why, this is only the most popular food item in Aquina, the finest of which is sold only by my hands!”
Confusion racked me as I attempted to identify the aroma.
Indeed, such a shabby looking merchant and his street fare was undeserving of my time. But I was a princess of worldly knowledge. My knowledge of cuisine was unparalleled. I'd experienced the sweetness of Lissoine and the spiciness of the Dunes before I'd even exited my cot.
And that meant I shouldn't be so perplexed as to what I was smelling ... most notably because it didn't compel me to immediately vomit.
“What is it?” I queried, expectations low as I allowed curiosity to take the reins for a short moment. “I don't recognise this combination of aromas.”
“Nor would you, if you've never tried it before. The steamed brioche offers a tantalising sweetness, shielding the pungency of the grilled beef patty and the layer of melted gruyère. But above them is Aquina's secret. Red onions, butterhead lettuce and sweet tomatoes, all freshly picked by yours truly this very morning.”
I looked at this halfling in bewilderment. Every word he spoke I understood, and yet I failed to parse a single thing he'd said.
“Brioche? Sweet pastry with beef and … melted cheese? W-What is this? Are you suggesting some concoction involving all of this? Is that a bizarre stew in the pot?”
The halfling chuckled.
Then, he picked up a pair of wooden tongs and reached into the pot.
What he withdrew was assuredly the most ghastly food item I'd witnessed in my life.
A round brioche roll, sliced in half. And within it, stuffed like a grotesque éclair were all the combinations of the things mentioned. A thick slice of grilled beef, its fat dripping down the lower half of the buttered pastry as it sat on a leaf of lettuce. And upon the beef, white cheese layered like a sauce as it melted amongst the steaming onions and tomatoes.
The halfling watched my expression closely.
Then, he smiled as he offered the … thing towards me.
“A sandwich melt is as the name implies– a hot sandwich, one boasting the highest sales of any prepared food item in the duchy! Utilising two halves of a roll of brioche pastry and Aquina's finest produce in between, it's favoured for its convenience, taste and affordability! Indeed, it's only now that the sun has fully set that I can finally even think about closing shop!”
The halfling, small was he was, appeared giant as his enterprising smile bore down on me. I responded by closely studying the insult to high cuisine before me, feeling for all the world like I was committing gourmet treason simply by taking in its chaotic appearance.
“Is this eaten with one's hands?”
“Well, you're free to use your feet if you want. I guarantee, soon as it touches your mouth, you won't care how you eat it.”
I doubted that.
It was, frankly, an absolute travesty.
A whole meal in bread! Why, to even think about consuming something so slovenly was as poor as whatever the result would be! There was a reason cutlery existed! Where were the napkins? The bowls of lemon water? The absolute mess that would occur, and nothing to clean it!
I turned my eyes away.
Yes, morbid curiosity had momentarily grappled the worldly gourmand in me. But I was a princess. And while I'd purchased pastries from stalls, it was always using Coppelia as an intermediary.
But that was not enough here.
Even the barest association with having purchased such a messy pile of crudely mashed together ingredients was too much!
“I … I thank you for the explanation. However, both me and my future handmaiden are currently on the way to–”
I felt a tug on my hand.
I turned around, and to my horror, saw Coppelia staring at me with unblinking eyes, a trickle of drool running down the side of her lips.
“C-Coppelia!” I swiftly grabbed her arm, using her sleeves to wipe off the drool. “Your appearance! You must maintain it even at the cost of your life! Rather, to drool is to die! Don't do it!”
She looked at me uncomprehendingly, all conscious thought erased as I witnessed only the image of a greasy sandwich in her eyes.
Just like that, my future handmaiden had been brought low where even flames had failed.
I quietly groaned, then glanced at the halfling.
“P-Perhaps … just the one … for her.”
The halfling responded by picking up another sandwich melt with a second pair of tongs. He wore the smile of a seasoned vendor.
“Sure? I did say it's a two-for-one offer.”
I gulped.
There … There was simply no possibility!
I was a princess, and this was clearly inappropriate as a victory feast! Tonight was an occasion to be celebrated! After all, it had all the hallmarks of my resounding success! I'd brought low the Duchy of Aquina and negotiated the Winter Queen's departure!
Just because I was somewhat curious didn't mean it actually tasted any–
“It's sooooooooooo yummy~” said Coppelia through a mouthful of everything. “Sooooooooooooooooo yummy~”
I wavered.
The expression on her face!
Why, it was nothing short of delirium!
For … For such a profound effect to occur on a clockwork doll, immune to all mind altering magic, this food could only be highly potent! Dangerous, rather!
I … I had no choice!
As a princess of this kingdom, I had to ensure that safety standards were being met!
“T-Thank you ...” I said, cautiously accepting the unsalvageable mess in my hands. “I … I shall take a small sample now … in order to ascertain its quality as unique fare of this kingdom ...”
“Go ahead.” The halfling raised his thumb. “It has my seal of approval.”
I hesitated, peering at the mess of oil and melted cheese.
As I squeezed, a trickle of fat ran down the brioche, itself slathered in a sheen of butter. The vegetables peeked out at me, a contrast of colour and healthiness amongst the promise of grease.
Even … Even so …
The aroma was …
I paused, glanced at Coppelia once more, then slowly raised it to my mouth.
Just a single bite would do. Just to confirm my suspicions. It took more than novelty to earn a respite from my scathingly high standards. When this insult to presentation revealed itself for what it was, I'd spare no critique at its expense!
“I … I warn you, Sir Halfling … I have the tongue of a seasoned gourmand! I cannot be defeated by something as slipshod as this! W-Why, there's simply no possibility that this unsightly, sloppy, abominable mess of om nom nom nom nom is sooooooooo good?!”
T-The flavours!
They all came together!
Fresh and crisp vegetables crunching against the melted softness of bread, cheese and meat so tender that it fell apart in my mouth!
The food was a travesty! And yet the thought behind its design couldn't be denied! Here was a culinary evolution! A creation which was an entrée, dinner and dessert all combined in one!
Why, each bite that I experienced was an amalgamation of textures and flavours, each slow chew a sampling of perfectly measured seasoning … until … huh?
Where did it all go?
I blinked, looking down at my hands shorn of something far greater than the sum of its parts. And then I was drawn towards the laughter of the halfling, whose cart's handles were being lifted in his palms behind him.
He was about to leave!
“W-Wait!” I said, my mind spinning as I desperately gathered my senses. “I … I haven't paid … that was ...”
“That was your first sandwich melt, eh? Then you can have it on the house. Or the cart, rather.”
“Excuse me?”
Of all the things to earn my disbelief, this now assumed the top spot.
I was being subjected to charity! The indignity!
“It's been a while since I've seen expressions like you two have made,” he said, the wheels on his cart shifting. “That's payment enough. For me, at least. Don't expect this from the wannabes after my recipe, though.”
My mouth opened wordlessly as the halfling began trundling away, a whistle forming on his lips as he considered his evening finished.
I could not permit him to leave!
He … He was a clear and present danger to the people! Why, with gastronomy as diabolical as his, the world of haute cuisine would be overturned in an instant! Trained chefs would cease to julienne carrots and focus only on melting blocks of cheese instead!
I had to remove him at once. And I knew just the way to do so!
“Sir Halfling, I'm currently on a noble quest to save this kingdom from financial collapse and the threat of revolution. Should you wish to join me as my personal chef, I will permit you a place by my side.”
To my surprise, the halfling merely chuckled at my unprecedented offer. His eyes glanced down at the copper ring around my finger.
“Saving the kingdom, huh? … How nostalgic.”
I blinked at his unexpected response.
And then, I peered at him again–seeing past the unshaven beard and at the bright eyes, the skin wrinkled with sun and age, and the faint remnants of a scar still lingered across his cheek.
“Excuse me? Are you perhaps a halfling of renown?”
“Me? Nah. I'm just a vendor of Aquina's finest junk food. Although … have you perhaps ever heard of the Golden Hogs?”
“The Golden Hogs? No. Is that the name of the restaurant where you trained?”
The halfling offered a quiet smile.
“Sure. Let's call it that.” He nodded, then began trundling away. “Good night to the both of you. Thank you for visiting my stall. And may fair weather bless you with saving the kingdom, adventurer.”
And then, he went–whistling a merry tune as both he and his cart broke the quiet of Aquina's night.
Only when his cart had receded into the distance did I finally endeavour to shake myself from my stupor.
The sandwich melt … it was far too powerful!
That's it! Once I returned to the Royal Villa, I would need to make inquiries, describing in exact detail the composition and ingredients used … so that I could outlaw it!
Indeed, I would even have it made daily so that its dangers would never be forgotten!
“I need more of that,” said Coppelia, her eyes still slightly in a daze as she watched the fading silhouette of the halfling's cart. Her hands were long empty. “It was so oily that I feel more cogs spinning faster. That made coming all the way out here only to be shouted at by the big guy for not saying hello more often worth it~”
And thus–
My mind was fully brought back to the here and now.
Because as shockingly palatable as that breaded concoction was, it compared little to the taste of success I experienced this evening. And that had come about with the assistance of my loyal future handmaiden, whose presence I would continue to rely upon in the days ahead.
I was very interested in a conversation with anyone who believed they had the authority to change that state of affairs.
“Coppelia. I believe it's time to inquire about the nature of that excessively loud voice you were conversing with.”
“Oh, that. I thought you might have missed it.”
“Unlikely. I can still feel the echoes. An impressive ability. Your … Curator is a mage, I take it?”
Coppelia hummed, her eyes glancing away in thought.
“Well … I suppose, sure?”
“Is he not?”
“No, he definitely is. Although it's not really the first thing you think of when you see him. You'll understand if you meet him. And I have a feeling you will. You'd definitely be allowed in the library, I think. At least once. You'll love it!”
“An interesting proposition, but I'd first need to know the barest details about what it is and where it is first.”
Coppelia offered a mischievous grin, leaning in slightly as she sought to mask her words.
“It's your everyday secret library hidden in the deepest forests of Ouzelia, accessible by invitation only … or knowing where to go. Want me to tell you how to find it?”
I shook my head at once.
“Unnecessary. Should I ever visit your library, it'll be with you leading me at a comfortable pace … which is why I'm curious regarding your response should this Curator ever ask for your return.”
Coppelia dismissed any concerns with a giggle and a flick of her wrist.
“I'm a rebel, you know~? If I'm ever asked to go back, I'd definitely find a way to loiter. At least until I've done what I came here for. It's just easier with official permission.”
“The only permission you require is mine. Any princess would struggle without their retainers, and I'm no exception. My hair is far too complicated to maintain on its own.”
“I mean, I get I do weird things in my sleep sometimes, but I don't think I've ever helped maintain your hair … have I?”
“You haven't. That's another skill to be taught. One higher up the priority list. And until you've performed all your duties admirably, reached a supervisory role and can delegate all responsibility to a band of tearful maids, I will not permit you to leave. I see now that my kingdom is far too vast for me to travel alone.”
“Going by geographic size, it's still the second small–”
“Shhshhshshhshhh! I-In any case, I wish to make it plainly obvious that you're not to leave my side … f-for any reason! Until I've released you from your future burdens, I expect to see you assisting me with every menial task and petty whim!”
Coppelia gave her most bemused smile yet.
She performed a single hop towards me, then bumped her hip against mine.
As my mouth opened wordlessly to this flagrant assault against my person, she'd already begun skipping away.
“Got it~ I'm not going anywhere. At least not until I've eaten a few more sandwich melts. Do you think they'll sell them at the inns?”
Whistling as much as the halfling, she bounced away down the street.
I waited until I made sure she wasn't turning around, then offered a small smile at her back before following.
Tomorrow would bring a new day. And while I couldn't predict what contrived challenges I would face in my bid to restore my quality of life, I did know one thing.
That I would trample every obstacle before me.
And when I did, I would have my loyal future handmaiden by my side, ready to rescue me, carry me, and laugh with me in that particular order.
And no booming voice could change that.
Because no matter how loud it was, mine was still greater.
