Living However the Fuck (6)
Piana tilted her head, staring at me with a blank look. "What's up?"
"Uh... nothing... no..."
Did I hear that wrong...? It sure sounded like banmal...
"Inn work is really tough. But I'm glad I came here. The food's delicious, and everyone's so kind and nice."
"That's a relief. You're still getting the hang of it and making mistakes, but you'll be fine once you're used to it."
Piana stroked Kali's head and gazed off toward the distant Buren River.
"Mr. Bertrand seems like a really good guy. If it were me, I'd have kicked out some plate-breaking employee ages ago."
"Everyone's gotta start somewhere. It's fine. Plates aren't that expensive anyway."
"Sounds like you'd fire her if they were."
"No, not exactly."
She smiled, her face glowing on its own even in the pitch-black night. A truly beautiful sight.
"So, where're you from, Miss Piana? Doesn't seem like Rosens. Bue?"
"Hmm. Why? Does where I'm from matter for inn work?"
"Nah, not really... but since we're working together, it'd be nice to know the basics."
"Fair enough."
Just as Piana opened her mouth to reply, the inn's back door creaked open and Della poked her head out.
"Miss Piana! There you are? The hall's emptying out—help with cleanup?"
"Got it, Della."
Piana flashed me a bright smile, gave Kali's chin one last scratch, and headed over to Della. As she turned, a faint, pleasant scent—subtle and uplifting—wafted through the air.
Kali clearly liked it too; he craned his neck toward her retreating figure, sniffing eagerly.
I didn't follow right away. Instead, I lingered a bit longer, gazing down at the serene flow of the Buren River.
From inside came the crash of a breaking plate, followed by Della's shriek and Piana's apologetic murmur.
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The hall had emptied out, leaving me alone to tally the ledgers when the door swung open and Celereja stepped in. Way later than usual.
"Running late today."
"Had to dig around because of Idwild's issue."
"Find anything good?"
Celereja rubbed her furrowed brow, looking exhausted, and shook her head. "Went through every book in the temple. Nothing on suppressing a black mage's black magic power. Plenty on killing them effectively, though."
"Well, yeah—just blast 'em with a holy beam, right?"
"Exactly. I sent an official query to the main temple, but don't hold your breath. Won't hear back for a week. And Idwild's got what—two days? Three at most?"
Still, Celereja had clearly given it her all to solve Idwild's problem. Bitchy personality or not, a saintess was a saintess. I was genuinely grateful.
"You haven't eaten, right? Saved some dinner for you, Saintess."
"Oh, really? Thank god... I was starving to death..."
I ducked into the kitchen and brought out the tray Francois had set aside. Celereja clapped her hands, beaming like a kid.
Everyone who stayed here loved Francois's cooking, but Celereja was obsessed. The first time she tried it, she'd dropped her spoon and screamed—after that, she made sure to eat dinner here no matter what. Francois, knowing her schedule, had whipped up a late-night meal just in case.
"Mmmph... so good..."
Celereja let out a moan as she shoveled it down.
Watching her, I caught a suspicious vibe and turned toward the dark hall.
"Marim."
"Eep... hehe... boss..."
Marim froze mid-sneak toward the basement stairs, flashing an awkward grin over her shoulder. But she wasn't alone—milky-white Piana stood right behind her.
"Piana? What're you two doing down there?"
"Well, see... Piana said she'd never tried wine, so... hehe..."
Marim giggled, spinning around to nudge Piana toward the stairs. Piana gave a sheepish smile and crept up.
"G'night, Mr. Bertrand..."
Under my stare, they bolted up to the third floor like they were racing each other.
Marim, who was always whining about Piana's "weird head," now sneaking off to steal booze together? Real friendly.
I sank back into my chair. Celereja was glaring daggers at the stairs, eyes practically shooting holy beams.
"Who's that chick?"
Her voice dripped with suspicion.
"New waitress starting today. Customer boom had me thinking about hiring anyway... why the death stare?"
"You into big-titted pale girls or something?"
Celereja slammed down her spoon—ignoring her beloved Francois dish—and grilled me.
What? Hiring help's a crime now...? I was about to snap back when it hit me.
Come to think of it, Celereja hadn't slept with me once since a few months back. She'd tried flirting a bunch, but something always got in the way. Now, with her jealousy flaring, all these new hotties popping up—Francois, Piana, total stunners—must've been driving her nuts.
I racked my brain desperately. Botch this answer, and she'd lose it for sure.
"Yeah, guilty. Big tits and pale skin's my type. You're one too, Saintess."
"Wha—?! Me?!"
My bold shot flustered her into a stammering mess. Then her cheeks flushed crimson, and she ducked her head.
"Hmph... well... I am... a little... born this way just for you, Bertrand..."
Whew. Crisis averted. Hell, raiding a dragon nest sounded easier.
But that was just hurdle one. Fizzle now, and I'd be better off not starting.
"Saintess, ledgers'll wrap quick. Why not head up and take a bath instead?"
"Eek...! Y-you mean... that?!"
She flailed, dropping her spoon on the floor. Bending to grab it, she smacked her head on the bar edge.
"Ow ow... g-going up first...!"
Celereja bolted from her chair, hand jammed between her thighs, and dashed up the stairs.
I wrapped up the books sloppy-fast and followed. She'd vanished by the time I hit the stairs, so I headed to my room.
On the way, the hallway felt... warmer? I'd left an Asenaris in a box up here to cool the third floor, but...
Checking the box, the chill was weaker than before. Curious, I popped the lid.
The lone Asenaris sat slumped on a tiny chair—a wooden one Idi had carved. Corner even had a handkerchief "bed."
"You sick or something?"
It glanced up at my voice, met my eyes, then weakly shook its head. Shuffled to the bed, yanked the cloth over its head like a blanket, and hid.
What the hell? Depressed from living alone? Pelle said they were fine solo, though...
Couldn't understand a word it said anyway—ask Pelle tomorrow what gives. Hate for it to slack after I caught the damn thing...
If it couldn't cool the whole floor anymore, might as well stick it in my room. Cool that at least.
I hauled the box to my desk. No real change, though.
Cleaning before Celereja arrived, I suddenly sensed the room felt... off. Different.
What was it? Standing in the middle, scanning around, I spotted it: my shirt was gone. Hung it on the chair to wash, but...
Someone snag it? Huh... laundry'd vanished before too. Someone was doing my wash.
Della, probably. Pelle and Marim wouldn't touch others' stuff; Idwild wouldn't even think of it. Francois was newish. Della was the only one left—sweet, diligent girl.
Damn, my luck with people was unreal. Who else thinks to hire gems like her?
Grinning on the bed, thinking of Della, I caught Celereja peeking through the door.
"Mr. Bertrand... can I come in...?"