Dusk settled in as we began our dinner preparations.
“Okay, Mary, I need you to be honest with me. Do you remember when I said being the guardian wasn’t your only role and that we’d also need you to do odd jobs?”
“Of course. A knight holds her promises very dear.”
“Good. So, Mary, can you prepare meals?”
“I’m good at slicing things up.”
Well, that both was and was not an answer to the question.
“Let me rephrase the question. Can you cook?”
“I can’t vouch for your safety if you eat anything I cook, let alone your enjoyment of it, but I welcome the challenge.”
That go-getter attitude was great and all, but it didn’t change the fact that she couldn’t cook.
“Can you make a fire?”
“It may take me some time, but with the necessary tools and my firm dedication, I can accomplish anything.”
“Then, can you light a fire for the furnace? Ask Ann to show you where we keep the firewood.”
“Leave it to me.”
Mary walked over with determination and began working on starting the fire. Human knights seemed to be from the noble class, so it was no surprise that she didn’t know how to cook, but I was starting to worry that perhaps I’d misjudged her and she wouldn’t be good for anything but fighting.
“I’d hoped bringing in a new chef would mean some diversity in our menu, but no such luck.”
I was getting damn near sick of steamed pumpkin. Ann and Deneb must have felt the same, but Milt was a modest village and it reflected in their eating habits. The locals ate anything that was cheap and filling, without much regard for flavor. I’d been expecting Mary to teach us human recipes, but since she couldn’t cook, that would probably be asking a lot.
I went through our storage and set out some of our seemingly endless stock of demi corn and pumpkin, and then began steaming and mashing them. I dished up the makeshift corn and pumpkin mash along with some jerky, as well as some fresh bread I’d found on Tundra. It was simple fare compared to modern Japanese cooking. The mashed pumpkin was pretty stringy, and despite everything I tried, the corn always tasted dry. But a place like Milt simply couldn’t afford to prepare food with a lot of flavorful seasonings. In fact, every time Deneb came to visit, she’d smile and tell me how delicious my food was, so we were eating pretty well, comparatively. And as far as Ann was concerned, anything I made was delicious, so she wasn’t the most helpful person to have around if I wanted to improve. I appreciated that she was such a sweet girl, not to mention that she wasn’t a picky eater, but still.
“Aoi, shouldn’t we get one of these for Mary?”
Ann showed me the Tundra page she had open in the labyrinth manager window. Ever since Karumi had approved my application for Ann to join my family, she’d had access to her own UI. It was somewhat limited compared to the full labyrinth manager interface, but at least she could open Tundra. She also could see the status of both the labyrinth manager and any other family members, so it wasn’t all that bad. Ann currently had a window open displaying a modest set of dishware.
“Oh, that’s the same one we always buy porcelain from, right? Labyrinth #112. Their goods are a little pricey, but they’re high quality and sturdy. Good choice.”
Labyrinth #112 stocked a lot of porcelain items, ranging from daily necessities to works of art. I wondered if the manager there was simply a pottery enthusiast. Their prices were kind of high, but the design and quality never disappointed.
“Mary, over here!”
Ann grabbed Mary and showed her to the delivery box alongside the cabin, then showed her how to fill the piggy bank above it to pay for goods.
“See, just put the money in here.”
Ann inserted the DL coin through the slot on top of the piggy, and her UI window popped up a message indicating successful payment. Another window opened up in the air, and a cardboard box with a sticker on it saying “Handle with care” slid out and gently fell to the ground. The dispenser tended to be absolutely silent when it was a fragile item.
“Thanks for your purchase. Have a loooovely day!”
A cheery voice offered us a greeting—Ann and I just called the owner of that voice “the Tundra guy”—and the window closed as fast as it had opened.
“...Ann, what the blazes just happened?”
Mary rubbed her eyes as if she couldn’t believe what she’d just seen. Her expression was half-surprised and half-exasperated. No, maybe eighty percent exasperated? It was quite a look, at any rate.
“What, just now? That was the Tundra guy. He delivers things.”
Ann retrieved the paper cutter and opened up the cardboard box with ease, then removed the tableware from its cardboard cushioning.
“Here, these dishes are yours. Make sure to wash them before you use them for the first time.”
Ann handed Mary her plates and then showed her to the spring we used for washing dishes. I felt like this was going to work out okay. Even if Mary was useless at housework now, she had Ann there to teach her, so I was sure it would be fine.
“Aoi, I expect a proper explanation upon my return.”
I nodded at her and watched as Ann dragged her off.
When Mary returned, I explained to her that Tundra was a marketplace and distributor for labyrinth managers and their families and subordinates, permitting them to trade their local goods with each other. I could almost hear the sound of her preconceptions shattering like glass. The Great Dark Lord implementing such a system in this primitive world was bound to raise a few eyebrows, so Mary’s shock wasn’t completely inappropriate. But like I kept telling her, you just had to accept things as they were and roll with the punches.
I plated our dinner for three. When it came to having company at meals, my philosophy was, the more the merrier, and I was used to cooking an extra portion for when Deneb came around. Mary struck me as the type who could really pack it away, so I made double the usual, just in case she wanted seconds.
“Well, let’s get to it before it gets cold.”
“Yeah!”
Ann dug in straightaway with a cheerful shout. Man, the way she looked so excited about dinner always made the effort I spent on cooking feel worth it.
“Thanks for the meal.”
Mary, on the other hand, sounded a bit more hesitant. Maybe eating at July’s table had left her with some trauma.
“This is delicious!”
“What a pleasant surprise. The seasoning provides a lovely balance between sweet and salty. I had heard the food in your labyrinth was good, but to think it was of this quality.”
Ann was kind as always, but Mary’s delighted surprise was something new. Though I wasn’t actually that pleased by her flattery. I’d kinda just thrown in all the seasoning I had. It seemed the humans in this world didn’t have particularly refined tastes, any more than the Daemons I’d met.
“I’m glad you like it, Mary.”
The surface of the mashed corn and pumpkin ball I’d cooked had grown somewhat cold, but a pleasant smell wafted out when I cut it in half with my chopsticks. I popped a piece in my mouth, but the corn was as dry as ever, and the pumpkin was still stringy. The jerky was kinda rubbery and hard to chew, too. We were better off than before we’d finished the grand staircase, which had given us access to food from the village, but I still wasn’t content with the situation. Still, in spite of my misgivings, the girls were enjoying it, so I smiled awkwardly and bit my tongue.
The highlight of the meal was the bread, for sure. We didn’t have any butter, so the only taste you got was the bread itself, and boy was it good. It didn’t have the hard, crunchy mouthfeel or the heavy salt content of bread made to last longer; this was bread that you had to eat the day it was made. Man, I really had to pat myself on the back for making a point of monitoring Tundra to learn the exact moment this bread was listed. There was no substitute for bread fresh out of the oven, still piping hot. It was so popular that it usually disappeared within thirty minutes.
“Aoi, um, this is all so excellent. I don’t suppose I could trouble you for more?”
“You want seconds? Sure, I made a lot tonight, so eat as much as you want. Oh, I don’t have much of that fresh bread, though. You mind the regular kind? I have to warn you, it’s not as soft.”
“That’s more than good enough for me. I’m grateful simply to be able to eat.”
She ate that hardtack like it was nothing. Maybe she was used to it? I couldn’t believe how contentedly she was munching on that stuff; if you asked me, it was about the same as eating a rock.
“And it’s okay to have more of the rest of this, too?”
“It’s fine. I made extra tonight.”
I’d been thinking maybe there would be leftovers that we could have for breakfast tomorrow, but it looked like she was gonna scrape the pot clean. She enjoyed the food so much, it was hard to complain. I was pretty impressed that she could maintain such a killer figure with an appetite like that. It wasn’t like I had X-ray specs and could take her measurements through her clothing, but she didn’t look like she had an ounce of extra fat on her.