Page 84 of Ale Storm

“Got all that?” Rylana asked Mya.

“Yes. I’ll make desserts to pair with both dishes.”

“I am also considering a rockball appetizer with dipping sauces and will keep you apprised on that development. Rylana, I do not believe my pantry was disturbed by the home invaders, and I have noted the ingredients you purchased for me this morning.” Jildarin leaned into view and nodded his approval at her.

“You’re welcome,” she said.

“You must feel honored that he doesn’t forget your name and call you human,” Mya said as Jildarin walked across the kitchen to also check the walk-in icebox, though Rylana doubted the intruders had looked for the horn in there.

“We’ve grown close,” she said. “He hasn’t called me my enemy for months.”

“Very honored. Will you serve the king on your rooftop terrace? Or in the dining room?”

“Hm,” Jildarin said from the icebox. The soft utterance could have meant he’d been distracted by checking the chilled ingredients or that he was considering Mya’s question.

“Does the location matter for your desserts?” Rylana couldn’t imagine the taste changing based on whether they were served indoors or outdoors.

“I was thinking about what happened the last time royalty was served on your terrace.” Mya pantomimed firing a bow. “If the king is going to dine up there, I might bake some traditional dwarven stonebread in a round shield-like shape. In case it needs to be hefted to deter arrows.”

“I’d laugh, but I have a feeling that’s not a joke, that something called stonebread does exist.”

“It does. There are a lot of recipes.”

“All with heft?”

“Naturally. Attacks at the supper table, both from allies invited to dine and enemies storming the stronghold, have happened often enough throughout dwarven history that there are numerous accounts of the bread being used both in defense and offense.” Mya made a motion like throwing a disc.

“I don’t know if the king will want to dine up there surrounded by elven plants—maybe we should have a subterranean cellar made for our rock-loving dwarven guests—but I’m sure elven archers won’t have a reason to attack him, regardless.”

“I wouldn’t expect the elves to target him,” Mya said, “but dwarves are after the horn, right? Maybe more than the two that the peacekeepers arrested?”

“That may be true, yes. I’ll plan to have my bow nearby in case there’s an assault, but I hope there won’t be. Jildarin wants royals and other V.I.P.s to dine here so he can put their names on his plaque so it will attract more patrons. If the diner gets a reputation for being attacked when high-profile customers come, that could be a deterrent to business.”

“The food is very good. Probably worth being shot at now and then.”

“A line we’d prefer not make its way into a restaurant critic’s column.”

Mya waved, said she would start the breads and desserts, and headed out.

Jildarin walked out of the icebox wearing a thoughtful—or was that pensive?—expression.

“Everything okay?” Rylana asked. “Nothing missing?”

“No, I do not believe the thieves entered the kitchen or disturbed anything except your area.”

“Especially my underwear. I may need you to turn into a dragon later to help me retrieve the pair in the rafters.” She smirked as she imagined him reaching up there with his long neck and plucking them down with his fanged maw. Gently down, she hoped, so those fangs wouldn’t leave holes. She’d heard from Zalani that eyelet-lace underwear was currently trendy with the women of Tranquility, but Rylana doubted panties perforated by dragon fangs qualified.

“Should you need my services, I will be pleased to assist you.” Still looking thoughtful and distracted, Jildarin gazed upward. “I find the verdant rooftop terrace with its trees and shrubs and vines peaceful, and the elves and humans seem to as well. Even the gnomes, goblins, orcs, and trolls frequently request to dine up there. But you’ve raised a valid point. Dwarves are more comfortable surrounded by stone walls, and ogres also enjoy being in mountain caves.”

“We can host the king in the diner. The walls are made from brick. And Mya was probably right to bring up that the terrace, since it’s out in the open, would be more vulnerable to attack. There shouldn’t be attacks in Tranquility, but…” Rylana held her palm out.

“It has happened before.”

“And we’ve been ransacked just this morning. Those who seek the horn may be moved to do something foolish if they’re afraid they’re about to lose their opportunity to get it. I’m sure it’ll be harder for them to steal once the king, surrounded by all his guards, has it. What do you think about hiring a gnomish wizard to install a security system for the diner? There are several in town who specialize in employing their magic to such ends.”

“Never has a dragon purchased a security system from a gnome or anyone else.”

“Usually, dragons are the security system.”