The Girl Running the Bathhouse (1)
"Francois... I'm sorry. But I just couldn't hold back anymore..."
"It's fine..."
Francois turned to me with an elegant smile, her skin glistening with sweat.
"It was way more tense and exciting than when we do it in the bedroom..."
She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me.
"I love it, Bertrand... Oh my!"
Francois startled, shoving her apron between her legs.
"It's all leaking out... I didn't expect this... Sorry, could you grab my clothes for me...?"
I rushed upstairs and fetched Francois's clothes. On the way back, I ran into Ukun on the second-floor landing.
"You done with the head chef already?!"
"Huh? Since when were you there?"
Ukun glanced at the clothes in my hand and burst out laughing, shoving my back.
"Haha! Never mind. Go on, hurry up!"
"What the hell, you bastard..."
Francois dressed in the kitchen and retied her apron. She pressed a soft kiss to my cheek with a gentle smile and whispered,
"Thank you, Bertrand. For saving me... and making me happy again."
"That's all because you made the effort yourself."
"True. But if I hadn't met you, none of it would have been mine."
She gave my lips a light peck, shyly adding,
"From now on... sometimes... like this..."
"I'll... deactivate the preservation ritual..."
Francois and I both whipped around toward the kitchen door. Pelle stood there rigidly, her eyes slightly widened.
"Pe... Pelle..."
Francois stammered, glancing between me and Pelle. Pelle froze like a statue, then forced a smile... a smile... a smile...?
Her eyes weren't smiling at all—just her lips curved up unnaturally as she said,
"Sorry for interrupting."
With that awkward grin still plastered on, she walked out of the kitchen.
Too lost in Francois's rose scent to hear Pelle's footsteps... Smart as she is, she probably figured out exactly why Francois was acting weird earlier.
Francois fiddled with the front of my shirt, head bowed. I was just as flustered.
"You should... go now, Bertrand..."
"Got it."
Outside the kitchen, Pelle stood by the window across the hall, arms crossed, staring out into the rainy night. Nothing was visible, but she gazed out as if a traveling troupe was passing by.
As I approached, she spoke without turning, eyes fixed outside.
"No need to explain. I don't care what you and Francois were doing in the kitchen."
"Uh...?"
"What happened on the way back from Apenzel was just me repaying you for getting me out of that mess. Nothing more."
"Apenzel...? Why bring that up now..."
Pelle didn't let me finish.
"And the other night in the bar, when I did it with my mouth—that was just settling another debt. Not to please you or anything, so get that straight."
Before I could respond, words poured out of her like a waterfall.
"I have no ulterior motives toward you. Sleeping with you was purely to avoid owing you emotionally. So when I pay off all my debts and leave the inn someday, there'll be no lingering attachments. Don't worry that I'm upset or jealous knowing what you two were up to in the kitchen."
This was the most I'd ever heard Pelle say in one go. She didn't even ramble this much scolding Idi.
"I'm really fine with it. I'm not your lover, not your sexual partner, and I have no desire to possess you. I don't have childish thoughts like Francois stole you from me. Do whatever you want. I've never cared what you get up to anyway."
"Okay..."
"Now go. You're bothering me standing there."
"Alright. But... you planning to leave the inn once the debts are paid?"
Pelle ignored that, silently staring out the window. I watched her a moment, then turned.
As I headed for the stairs, she whispered so softly,
"Whether I leave or not, it won't matter to you anyway."
My sharp ears caught it crystal clear.
Damn... she sure took the long way around to say she's jealous...
─────
It felt like mornings and evenings had just started cooling off, and suddenly autumn was here. Early mornings when I came down alone felt downright chilly now. So Idi would light the hearth briefly for the staff.
The Asenaris couldn't keep spewing cold air anymore, so we paused that. Pelle boxed them up tight and cast a preservation ritual over the whole thing. That sealed in their chill completely.
Unable to see out through the solid box, the Asenaris looked glum, shoulders slumped. Pelle crouched by the box, chiding them in their unintelligible tongue.
It worked—they were chattering and bouncing around happily by the time we closed the lid.
We placed the box in the corner atop the bar. Pelle would handle their care, feeding them nuts and veggie scraps daily.
"They'll make it through next summer without issue, right?"
"Asenaris live way longer than humans. They don't get sick either."
Despite the Francois incident, Pelle treated me the same. She never shows her feelings anyway, so who knows what she's thinking deep down.
─────
The Buren River's water had turned frigid—no one bathed or swam there anymore. Still, it was early autumn, and daytime sun still beat down harshly.
Folks sweating from work had few options: pay a few coins at the inn for a tub and hot water, or rinse in the cold river. Wealthy types burned wood freely to boil bathwater, but most commoners couldn't dream of it.
And right on cue, the bathhouse was complete.
"Yeeeeeee-haaaaaawwwwww!!!!!"
Ukun let out a roar that shook the inn after his final hammer strike.
We all went out to admire the finished bathhouse. A two-story wooden building of fine materials and dwarven craftsmanship—beautiful. Smaller than the Grace Bay club, sure, but its exterior held its own.
The outer walls bore intricate reliefs no human could dream of carving: nude women bathing, wrapping around both floors.
"Come here, quick!"
Bouncing with pride, Ukun led us to the back. Two massive tanks matched the building's height. One had a brick furnace below to heat the water.
Pipes from each tank ran underground—one into the bathhouse, the other down the slope to the riverbank. Linked to the uzarburunt-powered pump on the riverbed, it'd draw water endlessly.
"Once the tanks are full, the pressure device pauses. Don't ask how— you'd never get it anyway."
Grinning ear to ear, Ukun strode to the entrance. We entered over neat stone paving and gasped in unison.
"Whoa... this isn't a bathhouse... it's like a rich man's mansion..."
Della gawked around the foyer, mouth agape.
The entrance was simple and elegant. Right ahead, the counter flanked by identical doors left and right.
"Why two doors?"
Marim tilted her head at her first sight of a bathhouse. Francois explained kindly,
"One for men, one for women, Marim."
"Oh? Why separate...?"
"Hehe... probably 'cause if they go together... babies get made?"
Idi grinned mischievously with her crude joke. Marim cocked her head further.
"Babies get made? What's that mean?"
"Quiet! This is time to appreciate my masterpiece!"
Ukun bellowed, silencing the chatting staff. But Marim whispered to Della on the sly,
"Della sis... do men and women make babies if they bathe together...?"
"Dunno... probably not... From what I know, babies are made like this..."