Seasoned Wyvern Tail Skewers
"Hoo… feels colder than last year. Or maybe it doesn’t."
Karem had left the inner castle on personal business for the first time in quite a while. Even bundled in thick layers, the cold still wormed its way through every gap and left him shivering.
The menu hadn’t been decided, and he was short on time to prepare both lunch and a snack, yet somehow he had pulled it off.
His own shamelessness left him a little uneasy.
Well, half of it really is my fault.
Still, when a dish popped into his head and he didn’t eat it, his body actually ached. The sight of all that surplus mammoth meat had suddenly summoned beef bourguignon, and his hands had moved on their own.
Of course, the price of that freewheeling daydream was nearly failing to prepare any snack at all. This time, at least, he offered silent thanks to Mary for her sudden raid on the kitchen.
"Wonder if she’ll even like it, though."
The thought struck him while he trudged through the heavy snow across the quiet streets.
The snack he had prepared was a direct continuation of that morning’s fantasy. Not that it was anything like bungeoppang or chrysanthemum bread—he didn’t even have the molds for those.
But there was still something he could make.
Japanese sweet red-bean pancakes. Dorayaki.
It hadn’t been especially difficult.
The pancake part just needed to be a little denser than ordinary pancakes and cooked thick. The real challenge had been getting that signature golden-brown color.
There were no red beans for the traditional filling, so he had substituted peas. Mary’s gaze had turned downright bizarre, but he hadn’t cared. Since when did he ever check anyone’s reaction while cooking?
Not a single speck of guilt troubled Karem’s conscience.
After all, pea paste had existed even in his previous life.
And pea paste took far less time than red-bean paste, so by the time Catherine finished lunch he had two full baskets of dorayaki ready.
I’ll just step out for a bit, then.
Hmm? You’re not coming with me?
Something just occurred to me—I need to stop by the blacksmith’s.
The blacksmith’s, is it. Fine. Put it on my name.
No, come on. Can’t I spend my own money for once?
Quiet.
Remembering the exchange just before he and Catherine had left made Karem’s shoulders sag a little. At first he hadn’t thought much of it, but at this point…
"Ah, whatever. What kind of job even is this, anyway?"
He shoved the weight of obligation, the sense of debt, and the twinge of conscience about freeloading off the person he liked into the convenient box labeled “employee benefits,” then picked up his pace.
His destination was the forge belonging to Gopain’s son, Govanius—the same place he had visited with Catherine and the one he always returned to whenever he needed custom work.
"Hoo, looks like he’s still open for busine—wait…"
The closer he drew to the forge, the stranger the scene became.
The weathered smithy, the brightly decorated horned-helmet signboard, and the single-bladed axe ornament were all buried under snow.
Govanius stood in front of the forge, staring in clear dismay at a long black something that was already half-buried by the heavy flakes.
"Is that a… snake—"
"Out of the way!"
"Whoa—!"
Thud!
Before Karem could dodge, a large, half-familiar man slammed into his shoulder and sent him sprawling. Thankfully the snow was thick enough that it didn’t hurt.
"Ah, damn it. Snow went right down my collar. Hey!"
Brushing the snow off his clothes, he approached Govanius and finally got a proper look at the object. It was bigger and longer than he’d expected. He could see the cut end.
"Govanius, is this a tail?"
"Yeah. Wyvern tail, apparently."
"A wyvern?"
One of the classic lesser-dragon monsters, right up there with lindwurms and drakes. He had even seen one on a recent trip—though that one had been undead.
"Looking at it like this, it’s really long and huge. Did a late order finally arrive? Though you look like it’s more headache than gift."
"My damn good-for-nothing son left it as a ‘present’ and took off."
Govanius raked a hand through his already messy hair.
"Your son… the one with the wanderlust who works as an adventurer?"
"That’s the one. My boy Gobar, the little bastard."
Gobar, Govanius’s son. From what the regulars said, he looked exactly like a younger, copy-pasted version of his father. Karem had picked up the details naturally after becoming a regular himself.
Anyway.
"A wyvern tail, huh."
Curiosity stirred.
"Mind if I take a closer look?"
"Suit yourself. That damn kid calls it a gift and only dumps more work on me. Ahhh-brrrrrr—"
Karem let the old blacksmith’s grumbling wash over him and brushed the snow off the tail.
The thick, lengthy appendage was covered in black, snake-like scales and roughly coiled. The cold had stiffened the muscle, yet it still felt dense and springy under his hands.
"So who are you, then?"
"Huh? Ah—I’m Karem. Karem."
"Right, Karem. Wait—what? Who did you say?"
Govanius blinked in surprise, still crouching, and locked eyes with the boy who had twisted around to look at him.
"Uh, have you… maybe not heard the rumors about me?"
"I have. Something about the exclusive chef who grew up under a curse, and Lady Atanitas falling head over heels for him."
"Excuse me? Hang on—what did you just say?"
Karem, who had been about to examine the tail again, flinched hard. That sounded like something he absolutely should not ignore. Who fell for whom? Head over heels?
"Govanius, just now you said—"
"Just in case, take that out. That thing."
"Wait, what? That thing…?"
"The magic kitchen knife."
"Ah."
Karem stood, reached into his coat, and drew Winter’s Lie. Govanius spun his hand in a quick circle, signaling him to turn the hilt.
Fwoooosh—ssssssss—
"That ornamentation, the heat and cold in the blade… there’s no way another magic kitchen knife like that exists. You’re really Karem?"
"Well… yeah, that’s how it turned out."
He twisted the hilt to shut off the cold and slid Winter’s Lie back into its sheath. Right. This was the normal reaction.
"No, wait—that’s not the point!"
"Huh?"
"What was that thing you said earlier?"
"What, the magic tool?"
"Before that. The part about falling head over heels."
"Ahh, the rumor that Lady Atanitas fell for you at first sight? I heard she took one look at you after the curse made you grow and was completely smitten."
Karem’s spine reacted before his brain did; he face-planted into the snow and clutched his head. How badly had the rumor been twisted…!
"Judging by that reaction the rumor’s wrong, but the feeling I’m getting says it’s not entirely wrong either. Am I right?"
"…Can we maybe take the order first and talk about that later?"
"Ohohoho. You want me to just walk past a story this interesting?"
Govanius’s eyes sparkled as if the earlier headache had never existed.
"A tale this juicy? No chance."
"Yeah, I figured. Haaaaah…"
Interest and curiosity filled the blacksmith’s face completely.
"Well… hah. There’s no real reason to hide it."
"If the rumor’s wrong, does that mean the order of events is reversed?"
"Yes. I confessed. There."
"Ooooh."
"She hasn’t accepted it yet, though."
"The important part is she didn’t reject you. Means she didn’t say no. Little genius chef Karem’s moving up in the world. Really moving up."
Govanius nodded as if that settled everything, then uncrossed his arms and sighed again at the wyvern tail that had already collected a fresh dusting of snow.
"Want a hand with that?"
"Wouldn’t mind."
Karem stood in one smooth motion and, together with Govanius, hauled the coiled tail into the forge.
The moment they stepped inside, the heat of the smithy hit them like a wall. The heavy winter clothes that had protected him from the cold were suddenly just cumbersome. As soon as the tail was set down, Karem peeled off his outer coat.
"Whew. Heavier than I expected. I figured something that flies would be hollow-boned like a bird."
"The bones are hollow, same as a bird’s."
"Then why’s it so heavy?"
"Packed solid with muscle."
Indeed, the firmness under the hide felt far too dense to be explained by a little frost alone.
"Anyway—another custom order?"
"Same as always."
Govanius clapped his hands loudly and rubbed them together until they rasped.
"Good. Your commissions are always welcome. Fun work and the silver’s nice and heavy. Lady Atanitas really does have the open purse of a proper archmage."
"I’m the one who ends up with the headache, though."
"Someone else is paying—what’s there to have a headache about? Isn’t that a good thing?"
He gave Karem a look of pure incomprehension, then let out a short, knowing hum. Karem tensed, wondering what was coming next.
"Or is it that you feel weird having the person you like open her wallet for you every single time?"
"What are you even talking about?"
"Bull’s-eye. Well, you’re a man, so it makes sense. But with Lady Atanitas’s status so overwhelmingly higher, isn’t that only natural?"
Karem coughed and avoided the blacksmith’s silent, expectant stare. Frustratingly, every word was correct; he couldn’t think of a single rebuttal.
"Anyway, let’s get back to business."
Govanius nodded in agreement.
"I’ve had my fun. So what do you want this time?"
"A metal mold."
"A mold?"
"Yep."
Karem took the wooden board and charcoal stick Govanius handed him and sketched a rough outline of a fish-shaped bun mold, adding small arrows and examples to show how the two halves would work. Aside from the hinge connecting the plates, the drawing wasn’t complicated. Govanius nodded as soon as he understood.
"It’ll need to seal tight so the filling doesn’t leak. Right."
"Yes. Would copper work?"
"Copper? Easy enough by tomorrow. But let me guess—you want it shaped so you can bake something with a specific design?"
"Nailed it."
"Another headache job…"
Govanius frowned, clicked his tongue lightly, and tapped the board with a finger.
"Food that looks good tastes better."
"True. In that case it’ll take a little longer. Unlike my father, my aesthetic sense is a bit lacking. The engraving will have to go to the jewelers’ guild."
"So quite a wait, then."
"Still, I can knock out a prototype. Wait here a moment."
He waved for Karem to stay put and disappeared deeper into the forge.
Naturally, one object immediately claimed Karem’s attention. After a quick glance around, he drifted over and ran a hand along the cold, smooth wyvern tail.
"A wyvern tail…"
The cut surface showed not a single speck of fat. Just as Govanius had said, it was packed solid with muscle.
Wonder how it tastes.
The pale pink meat looked as dense as chicken breast and therefore tough, but that wasn’t always the rule.
A cow’s front legs worked hard yet turned tender when cooked properly; chicken thighs were plenty soft too. And even if there was zero fat, dry meat wasn’t necessarily tough—chicken breast itself proved that. Personally, he rather liked the dry kind.
I’ve got soy sauce, so braising could work. Or maybe just fry it first and see.
Braising could break down even tough fibers, and almost anything tasted better once it was fried. Though that felt a little too much like cheating.
"Govanius! What are you planning to do with this tail?"
Still, it belonged to someone else, so he asked politely first.
"The wyvern tail?"
"Is there another tail sitting around here?"
"The cartilage melts down into glue, the bones go into weapons, the hide needs tanning first but I’ll turn it into armor or gloves."
"And the meat?"
"Well, I won’t need the butcher for a solid week. Why?"
"Mind if I use some?"
"You?"
Karem often cooked things and handed them around for people to try. Govanius had tasted enough of those dishes to know the rumors about the boy’s skill were solid fact.
"Govanius! Delivery of your order!"
Just as the blacksmith opened his mouth, a man shouldered open the door carrying a huge sack.
"Huh. You’ve got a customer."
"An order? Mine?"
"Don’t you remember? You commissioned arrow shafts and left the raw wood with me."
"Ah, right. Coming."
The man shrugged and untied the bundle. Exactly as Govanius had said, it was packed with bundled arrow shafts.
"Hm?"
Among them, a bundle of thin, short wooden skewers caught Karem’s eye.
"What are these skinny sticks? There’s a whole bunch."
"Ah, leftovers from trimming the shafts. Figured you could use them for kindling."
"Ohhh."
While Govanius checked the shafts and saw the man out, Karem examined the skewers one by one.
They were far too carefully pointed and finished to be mere kindling.
"So, Karem. The wyvern tail—planning to show off a little?"
"Yes. Do you like skewers?"
"That’s… not exactly the grand dish I was expecting."
"This is a blacksmith’s. Got any ingredients on hand?"
"What fancy ingredients does a skewer even need?"
True to Govanius’s word, the forge shelves held powdered red witch’s finger, garlic, liquor, honey, sugar—almost everything. Almost. The two most important items were missing.
Karem set the cleaned skewers aside and stood up.
"I’ll just run back to the castle real quick."
"Hey—how fancy are you planning to make these skewers?!"
"Just wait and see."
Confidence overflowed inside him—the certainty that every skewer he had ever eaten until now would be banished straight into the trash.