Isabellâs musings were interrupted by a gentle knock at the door followed by the entrance of the largest man the engineer had ever seen. More shocking than his bulk, however, were the furry claws with which he carried a serving tray and the bearish face that smiled broadly when he entered her sitting room.
"Master Isabell," Heila said, standing to help take the tray from the pot bellied cook who looked like heâd come directly from the kitchens. "Let me introduce you to another of Ashlynnâs good friends here. This is Georg, and heâs the Master of Kitchens here."
"Master Georg," Isabell said as she struggled to suppress the bone-deep reflex to run from the âclaw demonâ who came bearing her breakfast. Sheâd heard, of course, about the Clan of the Great Claw and that they stood head and shoulders taller than most men. Sheâd even noticed how the ancient fortress seemed to have been built for people who were larger than any human, with door frames that were extra wide and tall.
But hearing about the size, strength, and power of the bearish Eldritch people and being in the same room as one was a very different feeling!
"Master Isabell, I, um, I hope you donât mind that Iâve taken liberties to come in person," the tall chef said awkwardly as he gestured to the serving tray and two polished metal domes that covered the food underneath.
"I did exactly as you asked," he said, reaching out to pull the cover off the first plate, revealing a fairly simple and ordinary breakfast. "One boiled egg, warm bread with butter, and a slice of cooked ham," he said, listing off the components of the simple breakfast that Isabell had requested. His expression as he did, however, seemed deeply concerned.
"Is something the matter?" Isabell asked, looking at the bearish man and his drooping ears and wondering if sheâd committed some kind of Eldritch sacrilege when she told Heila what she wanted for breakfast. The poor man looked like heâd been told to leave a puppy out in the rain for the night when he presented her breakfast!
"Master Isabell," Georg said as he shifted nervously from foot to foot. "Iâm always delighted to make food that makes people happy. If you want something simple because itâs what you prefer, then Iâm happy to do that for you. But... I thought, perhaps you might not know about how food is made here in Lady Nyrielleâs fortress," he said awkwardly.
"I learned from Sir Ollie and Lady Ashlynn that kitchens in human castles often cook in large batches and serve lavish meals to noblemen and women where people pick and choose from platters filled with dishes," he explained. "I thought, maybe you were trying to spare me some work by keeping your request simple."
"Are things not done that way here?" Isabell said, raising an eyebrow in surprise. "You canât mean to say that you prepare individual dishes for everyone in this entire castle! The work that would take..."
"Meals for the staff are like that," Georg admitted. "But cooking for vampires is different because they donât really need to eat to sustain themselves. Lady Nyrielle and her progeny prefer small morsels with unique flavors so they can enjoy tasting many different things without needing to gorge themselves."
"So thatâs why Marcel, I mean, Sir Marcel, always seemed like he was picking at his food without eating much," Isabell said as she recalled her meal with the man she hadnât known was a vampire until the night before.
"But, what does that have to do with me? Iâm not a vampire and Iâm really fine with a simple breakfast," she said, gesturing to the plain-looking plate with its boiled egg, bread, and cooked ham. In truth, it wasnât much different than what she would have eaten at home, though the bread looked softer and fluffier than she was accustomed to.
"But youâre one of Lady Ashlynnâs honored guests," Georg said, frowning slightly as he realized that the gray-haired woman didnât seem to understand what that meant in terms of her place in the ancient fortress. "I would put just as much effort into cooking for you as I would for Lady Heila, Captain Virve, or Sir Ollie," he said as he reached out to lift the dome off of a second plate.
The second plate had clearly been inspired by the first one, consisting of eggs, bread, and meat, but the similarities stopped as soon as they began.
"This is a sweet onion tart," Georg explained as he pointed at a puffed and flaky pastry topped by a golden brown onion and studded with morsels of melted, gooey cheese. "The onion is sliced thin so it shouldnât be overpowering, and the goat cheese has been aging since the spring in the cool caverns."
"The omelet is simple with butter and fresh herbs," he continued as he pointed to a pale yellow rolled omelet topped with a sprinkling of fresh dill. "And the grilled fish next to it is one of Lady Ashlynnâs favorites, fresh trout from the river, grilled over hot coals and glazed in a mixture of maple syrup and dark vinegar."
"Ever since sheâs come here, Lady Ashlynn has asked if I can manage a fish dish for her at least every three or four days because she misses the sea. I thought, I thought you might as well," he said, lowering his ears so much that they were pressed flat against his head. "Iâm sorry if itâs a bit much, but..."
"But you wanted me to feel welcome," Isabell said, stepping forward to lay a hand gently on Georgâs furry, muscular shoulder. "Iâm sorry to have offended a fellow Master," she added with a smile that was equal parts appreciation of his craft and amazement at the softness of his golden-brown fur. "You must have thought I was looking down on you."
Instantly, Georgâs ears perked up, and a bright smile formed on his face, revealing pointed teeth that looked like they could strip flesh from bone in a single bite. Yet, somehow, it was impossible to feel intimidated by the bearish chef, even when he revealed his sharp teeth and sharp claws.
"When Lady Ashlynn came here, she spent weeks in my kitchens," Georg said with a wide grin. "She was training her senses and preparing to pose as a kitchen girl, but she seemed like she enjoyed learning to cook while she was there. Sir Ollie still visits me in the kitchens to help with meals and have a chat from time to time," he said.
"I heard Lady Heila say that youâre a Master Engineer," Georg continued warmly. "I donât know if you might have ideas for how my kitchen or my ovens can be made better, but I would be happy to hear your thoughts. Or, if you just want to talk to a âfellow Master,â" he said, using Isabellâs own term for him. "Iâm happy to make a treat for you between meals if you need someone to talk to over a bit of pastry or a bowl of warm soup."
"I," Isabell started to say, only for her voice to catch in her throat as she saw the look of deep concern that lurked within Georgâs invitation.
Heila had said it first, she realized. That Ashlynn hated the loss of control when she arrived, and that she didnât want Isabell to feel the same way she did. Now, as Georg stepped forward with his generous offer, she realized how incredibly lonely Ashlynn must have been when she arrived. Surrounded by strangers, none of whom were even human, and fighting from the beginning to strike back against Owain Lothian.
Now, just as Heila had said, the people around Ashlynn were stepping forward to give her a welcome that they hoped would be less stressful for her than the one Ashlynn had endured. From choices in her wardrobe and the way Marcel made sure she knew to pack her things for an extended stay when she left Lothian City to Georgâs offer of cooking and the company of a fellow Master, the Eldritch people here were trying to smooth her journey into their world.
"Master Georg," Isabell said as she took his large, bearish hand in her own. "Iâd very much enjoy the chance to spend time with you in your kitchen. Iâm sure that Lady Ashlynn will have plans of her own for me, but as soon as I can make time, I promise to visit."