“…What is this?”
“What do you mean? It’s meat. You know what meat is, right?”
“I know what meat is, thank you very much!”
The man brought us to an inn often used by adventurers. It looked like a pretty beat-up place to me, but I could see it being fancy by commoner standards. A number of places damaged by the eruption had already been patched up. This particular establishment probably had some pull in the community, to be among the first buildings to be fixed.
We sat ourselves down at the counter. The tables were full of citizens drinking themselves silly after a long day of labor. We had no choice but to sit at the counter to escape the smell of cheap booze.
A large-built, muscular man who seemed to be the innkeeper greeted the adventurer like a familiar face. The adventurer greeted him back and quickly ordered for us. We were soon served what was clearly ungarnished cooked chicken. There was no sauce to speak of, and I could only smell the faintest traces of seasoning. To call this food was blasphemy against the culinary arts.
Pepi and I gawked at our plates, but the adventurer said, “Just close your eyes and give it a bite. If you don’t like it, they’ll make it on the house.”
“I’m not so shameless that I’d deny them their livelihood…” I grumbled. That said, I didn’t even know how I was supposed to eat this. Even if I’d had a knife and fork, I wouldn’t know where to begin with such a rustic meal. There did seem to be some paper wrapped around the leg of the meat, but…no, surely not?
“You just grab the leg ’ere and tear into it, like this.” The adventurer demonstrated for us by biting directly into the chicken.
“How vulgar,” I said, horrified.
“It tastes best like this, really.”
“Loretta, let’s do what we must,” Pepi said.
“…Right.” I lifted up the meat, ready to complain to no end if it was awful, and took a bite. “…Hm? It’s actually good?”
“How…? It’s just cooked chicken, isn’t it?”
“Ha ha ha. Surprised? This place serves good food. Their chicken legs, in particular, are just unforgettable.” The adventurer spoke proudly.
The chicken looked plain, but it was actually quite well prepared. Not much seasoning, to be sure, but once I bit into the meat, I found it rich and flavorful. It was fresh and tender, with none of the chewiness or gamey quality chicken often had, and juicy enough that I almost expected to see it dripping all over me. It was the perfect remedy for an empty stomach after a day of labor. Appealing on an instinctual level.
“I’m flattered that a former noble like yourself finds it to your taste,” the innkeeper said.
“You can tell I used to be a noble?” I asked.
“’Course. The way you eat is different. Only nobles act with such grace.” He laughed gently.
“This meal is really wonderful,” Pepi said. “I mean it. This might be the best chicken I’ve ever eaten.”
“Thank you. I’m very happy to hear that. It makes it worth waking up early every morning to prepare this.”
I felt the same way as Pepi. I’d had finer chicken in terms of meat quality, but none as tasty as this. I’d turned up my nose at it for being food made by an ex-commoner, and for looking crude, but I could see now that it had been cooked with love.
“The liquor here is pretty good too,” the adventurer said. “Hey, get us three of the usual.”
“Sure thing.”
“Hold on, I never said we’d drink,” I complained.
“Come on, Loretta, we might as well. It’s his treat,” Pepi said. “Right?”
“Ha ha, sure thing, let’s make it my treat!” the adventurer said. He and Pepi seemed to be really hitting it off, which kind of bothered me. Pepi didn’t have a thing for him, did she…?
“You really wear your heart on your sleeve, huh, Kugret girl?” the adventurer said.
“Wh-what?”
“I’m saying you’re a little simple, girlie.”
I raised my voice. “Are you making fun of—”
“Loretta, stop. Don’t cause a scene,” Pepi chided.
“…Hmph.” I was miffed. The two were getting along and I felt like I was just a third wheel.
“Cheer up, lass. Here, your mead.” The innkeeper brought us our drinks, seeming to take pity on me. I calmed down a bit at the knowledge not everyone here was out to tease me.
I reluctantly picked up my cup and drank. “Oh… It’s good.”
“Right?” the adventurer said.
I had thought Broumet made the best mead, but what I just drank undid everything I thought I knew about the drink. The inn’s mead lacked the high-class taste of Broumet’s, certainly—I’m sure many nobles would knit their brows at it—but its strong fragrance and full-bodied flavor was unlike anything else. It was so unlike Broumet’s mead that it felt wrong to even lump them together in the same category. It was like a whole other liquor entirely.
“Surprised? This mead here was made by the up-and-coming Frater,” the adventurer said.
“The same Frater that makes crème brûlée?” I asked.
“Oh, that’s an ex-noble for you. You’re on top of all the trends, I see.”
“I didn’t know they did mead, though.”
Unlike Broumet’s mead, Frater’s was meant to be savored slowly. It paired well with the chicken leg.
“I apologize for my impoliteness earlier, adventurer,” I said. “I was wrong. The food here is excellent.”
“The name’s Gray, not ‘adventurer.’ Remember that for me.”
“Sure. Let me introduce myself properly as well while we’re at it. I’m Loretta Kugret.”
“And I’m Pepi Barlier.”
“Nice to meet you two. You know, ordinary people don’t talk so stiff. Feel free to loosen up a little.” He let out an energetic laugh.
More food continued to arrive. Everything was unique and delicious, and the liquor and conversation was good. At some point I forgot about my worries and simply enjoyed myself.