Chapter 10
“Renzo, you look well today, too! And Enya, how’s work going?”
The morning in Quaalid, where the festival was still underway.
Tarmin stepped into the Werewolf Tavern, where Sigona was absent, and greeted them with a cheerful smile.
Instead of returning his greeting, Renzo slyly shifted his gaze to the waitress on the tavern’s morning shift.
“Uh, hey, Enya? Can you hear me?”
There was no answer.
As if she hadn’t heard a thing, Enya calmly wiped a nearby table with a damp cloth. She seemed to be getting used to the tavern’s lace-trimmed apron, which she’d started wearing yesterday.
“Enya?”
“….”
“That white headband looks good on you.”
“…Ugh.”
Enya flinched at his slick compliment.
“You heard me. Why are you acting like that?”
Her composure shattered. With a sigh, Enya came over to Renzo and Tarmin, her expression still cold.
“What would you like to order?”
“Aren’t you going to return my greeting?
“Order.”
“Uh, um, anything? But I’m not really hungry. Can I skip ordering?”
“Order taken.”
Enya turned and walked toward the tavern’s kitchen. Tarmin stared after her in bewilderment, then turned to Renzo.
“Renzo, what did we do to her yesterday or today? Why’s she treating us like that?”
The middle-aged man, his neat hair slicked close as ever, stared back in disbelief.
“It’s not us. It’s you. What have you been doing, leaving the young lady behind?”
“I had somewhere to go. But what do you mean by that? Are you saying this is entirely my fault?”
“Isn’t it? A man who stands a woman up during the festival. I didn’t take you for that sort.”
“I didn’t stand her up. We didn’t have any plans together. Besides, Enya…”
Why would Enya be looking for him during the festival?
The accusing look didn’t let up, and Tarmin felt unjustly blamed.
The Sky Garden Festival—Garden Festival, for short—was a festival Enya and Tarmin had already experienced several times.
The only differences were that this was their first festival together as adults and that Enya had become a woman. But that didn’t mean they’d suddenly start acting like a couple, did it?
Though it was called a festival, the Garden Festival was practically an occasion for lovers to confirm their feelings for each other. If anyone kept statistics, they’d probably find a meaningful correlation between the festival and Quaalid’s marriage rate.
She wanted to go to a festival like that with him? Hold hands and dance among all the couples? Even though she was a man on the inside?
“Enya….”
She looked like a pretty blonde girl on the outside, but Tarmin knew the truth.
Though several years had passed, they’d once fought side by side, risking their lives together.
He believed they shared a camaraderie forged during their time as companions, a bond no mere festival could create.
“Renzo, as I’ve told you several times before, we’re not lovers. We do have that kind of trust between us, though. If she wanted money, I’d give it to her. Why would she go out of her way to squeeze into that crowd?”
“Then why don’t you ask her?”
“What?”
“Ask whether she wants to go to the festival.”
“You mean ask if she wants to go with me?”
“That’s right.”
Renzo said no more. He smoked his pipe with an empty plate in front of him. Music from a performance drifted in from far away.
With nothing better to do, Tarmin gazed out the window at the people passing through the streets.
A little while later, Enya brought over a large plate and set it down in front of Tarmin.
“Risotto with venison.”
“Thanks.”
He wasn’t particularly hungry, but since she’d brought him something, he figured he should eat it.
He scooped up a big spoonful of rice and vegetables. The moment he tasted it, he clapped a hand over his mouth.
“Ugh!”
“Oh, what’s the matter, sir?”
The food tasted like something that should never be in food. It was as if they’d used water from boiling laundry for the broth. He’d never realized a dish could slap him across the face like that.
Mustering all the refinement he could, Tarmin swallowed it down with a drink of water instead of spitting it out.
He forced his eyes open and glared at Enya.
“Hey, you punk. Are you trying to pick a fight with me?”
“Oh my, are you dissatisfied with our kitchen’s food?”
“I said anything was fine, but this—this is too much.”
Enya was putting on a completely natural act as a waitress who knew nothing at all.
He wanted to rap that sly blonde on the head, just like he’d done to Sigona, but he held back for now.
Even if they really did fight, Tarmin would lose.
“I’ve been to the South, so I know what cilantro is. I went with you, after all. But you knew I couldn’t eat this and brought it out anyway, didn’t you?”
“I see. I wasn’t interested, so I didn’t know. I’m terribly sorry.”
Cilantro was one of those vegetables that people who couldn’t stomach it found genuinely unbearable.
Though Enya apologized, her violet eyes were smiling slyly.
Tarmin sighed and pressed a hand to his forehead. The assault of the smell, which seemed to punch him in the nose, gave him a headache—and even made him feel feverish.
Clutching his aching head, he managed to speak.
“Enya, let me ask you something.”
“Yes? I don’t know anything about cooking. You’ll have to ask the head chef for details.”
“It’s not about the food.”
Enya dropped her act as an innocent waitress and looked at Tarmin.
As if to make sure she was watching, Tarmin glanced at Renzo, then asked Enya,
“Enya, I’m just asking, so answer freely. Did you want to go around the festival with me?”
“….”
Enya didn’t answer right away. She swallowed once.
She looked briefly at Renzo with his pipe and Tarmin clutching his head, then smiled sweetly.
“No? Why would I?”
“See? I told you I was right.”
Renzo shook his head at Tarmin’s triumphant expression. It seemed he still hadn’t given up hope.
“Well, the young lady may say that, but…”
“I’m not just being polite. Why would I go to the festival with a hunter who smells like that?”
“It’s nice to win, but that was a little harsh…”
While Tarmin nursed his wounded feelings, Renzo raised both hands.
“I thought you two were a troublesome pair from the moment I first met you.”
“Renzo, you keep trying to make something of it, but Taal and I aren’t involved, okay?”
“You’re not involved? Then why’s the young lady sulking?”
“I’m not sulking, either.”
Just as Enya was about to add a few more words in protest, the tavern’s head chef approached them.
The balding man greeted Tarmin.
“How’s the meal?”
“Mr. Banel.”
“Tarmin.”
He was looking at the plate Tarmin had left untouched after one bite. His scrutinizing expression shifted to certainty.
“I suspected as much. You wouldn’t have ordered something you can’t eat yourself, so Enya must’ve played a prank on you because you know each other, right?”
Enya’s face stiffened.
“Head Chef, that’s…”
“Enya, I don’t like people playing around with food. Even if it’s someone you’ve known for a long time. And those ingredients aren’t leftovers. What if someone comes in looking for this dish and can’t have it because of you?”
“Well…”
“And if anyone saw someone suffering over a plate of food, wouldn’t it hurt the tavern’s reputation?”
Under the chef’s sound reprimand, Enya’s face turned white.
“You may only be working here for the duration of the festival, but you’re still one of our employees, aren’t you?”
“Yes…”
It seemed she’d been so focused on teasing Tarmin that she hadn’t thought of anyone else who might get caught up in it.
Tarmin sighed as he watched Enya bow her head, her face drained of color.
Everyone had something they were sensitive about, something they wanted to take pride in. For a chef, that would be their cooking.
Tarmin wouldn’t care if someone claimed to be a better hunter than him, but some people took that sort of thing to heart.
Since the chef had caught her messing with the food, anything else she said would only make him angrier.
With a deathly pale face, Enya struggled to speak.
“Head Chef, um, if I offended you…”
Just then, Tarmin raised a hand.
“Mr. Banel, you’ve got the wrong idea.”
“Huh? Tarmin, I’m sorry. I’ll get you something you can eat instead.”
Tarmin was partly responsible, since he was the one who’d gotten Enya this job.
“I did order it. I wanted to try something different from usual.”
“Is that really true?”
“Yes. It’s my first time trying it, so it’s definitely intense, but it’s not bad. I’ll enjoy it.”
With that, he scooped up another bite and put it in his mouth.
He made the most of the salted venison’s flavor, chewing it with the risotto and swallowing.
Seeing him eat without a hint of discomfort, the head chef spoke cautiously.
“Uh, did I make a fuss over nothing?”
“Looks that way. Head Chef, if your food were bad, why would I come here every day?”
With Renzo chiming in, the head chef’s neck turned red.
“Ahem, how embarrassing. Enya, I’m sorry. I’ll bring you all something to drink as an apology, so please wait here.”
After watching the chef hurry away, Renzo decided to help the young man who looked ready to die.
“I’m dying.”
“Here, let me have a taste.”
Seeing Renzo take half the risotto from the plate, Tarmin looked ready to burst into tears.
“I thought there was no God, but I guess He was closer than I thought?”
“That’s gross.”
Unlike Tarmin, who looked like he was swallowing poison, Renzo finished the food without a problem.
“I don’t get why you’re suffering over this. It’s really good.”
“Do you get hungry while you’re boiling laundry, too?”
“You’d better swallow it quickly instead of wasting time joking.”
“Urgh…”
Tarmin shoved the food into his mouth, unable even to open his eyes.
Beside him, Enya watched with flushed cheeks.
Renzo let out an amused laugh at the sight.
And they’re not lovers?
It seemed to give him an idea for the subject of his next bet with her.