Dinner was at tarts and clam chowder, with a beer to wash it all down.
For dessert, there were peeled and sliced local wild apples.
As Leech finished his al, savoring the wild apples that were more sour than sweet, the chef, Wine Barrel, approached. In recent days, trying to satisfy his Lord’s various flights of fancy had taken a severe ntal toll on Wine Barrel. He had visibly lost a lot of weight, though he was still fatter than the average person.
"I’ve made the item you requested, my Lord," Wine Barrel said. "One stalk of that blue grass—ground, diluted, then mixed with maltose and wheat flour and stead—can produce 300 pills. I had so farrs with that particular hidden ailnt try them, and they couldn’t stop praising them. A single pill was enough to keep them erect for a very long ti."
"Well done," Leech said, quite pleased.
’One stalk of grass makes about 300 pills, and there are hundreds of them in the crypt.’
He looked at the fingertip-sized sugar pills and said, "The effect doesn’t need to be so miraculous. Keep diluting it with water—half the original potency will be fine. Hmm... and make them smaller, about half this size. We want it to get a reaction, not be a cure-all."
’If they lose their stamina halfway through the ’deed,’ they can just take another pill.’
’If this stuff actually cures them, who will I sell the rest to?’
The Lord’s word was law. Wine Barrel nodded.
"What is it? Sothing else?" Leech asked, noticing Wine Barrel’s hesitation.
"I’d like to request a kitchen helper," Wine Barrel said. "I’m getting a bit overwheld on my own."
"And here I thought it was sothing serious," Leech said. "Alright, I’ll have Simon go to Porcupine Territory tomorrow and find so nimble kids. I’m sure you’ll be able to pick a suitable one from the group."
Wine Barrel imdiately said, "Thank you for your rcy."
Baron Leech was rciful; that was the consensus among the commoners of Porcupine Territory.
By morning, news that the castle needed a young kitchen helper had spread throughout Porcupine Territory. People gathered, each hoping their own child would be chosen.
Working inside the castle was a dream co true for them.
The one in charge of the selection was the castle chef, Mr. Wine Barrel. A chef was the last person one should ever offend; they were responsible for delicious food and, while holding no official power, could certainly influence the Lord’s happiness.
The process was incredibly simple. They guessed that Mr. Wine Barrel just gave the group a casual glance and picked one he found pleasing to the eye.
Wine Barrel was indeed in a hurry. He had no ti to leisurely pick from a group of children who clearly knew nothing about cooking. He just needed to find one who looked obedient; he could teach them the rest later.
’Besides, there can only be one head chef. Why would I look for soone who already knows how to cook?’
"Oak Pail, co with ." Wine Barrel led the timid young girl into the back kitchen. "From now on, you’ll be responsible for helping carry things, wash vegetables, and..."
Seeing the girl’s dazed expression, he changed tack. "In short, you do what I tell you to do. There are so rules you must rember. You’re a kitchen helper in the castle, and in here, you listen only to . Pay no mind to anyone else, except for the Lord himself. You are not allowed to cook special als for anyone or sneak them food. You should know that theft is punished by hanging. The only places you are allowed to be are the kitchen and the small vegetable garden in the back. You are absolutely forbidden from going to the front yard or any other part of the castle."
The girl, Oak Pail, nodded repeatedly. She committed his every word to mory, cherishing this hard-won opportunity.
"It seems you’ve found a fine little kitchen helper. I’ll be looking forward to even more delicious als." An elegant voice ca from the kitchen doorway. Oak Pail turned her head and saw the Lord. She had once glimpsed him from afar, but compared to seeing him on horseback, he was so close now.
The Lord was smiling at her. ’So handso!’
She felt her cheeks grow warm and awkwardly returned his smile.
"My Lord," Wine Barrel said, bowing with so effort. "She doesn’t know anything yet. I do hope she won’t be a bother."
"I’m sure you’ll be a good teacher," the Lord said. "Where are those items? I figured you were busy finding a helper, so I ca to get them myself... Hmm, I’m about to head to Iron Stone City. Perhaps I can find a market for them while I’m there."
"Yes."
Wine Barrel imdiately fetched a burlap sack filled with pea-sized sweet pills.
"The packaging looks a bit cheap," the Lord remarked. "Never mind. I’ll sort it out when I get to Iron Stone City. While I’m gone, perhaps you can research so new delicacies for ."
"Of course. I’ll do my best to create the dishes you ntioned." Wine Barrel nodded eagerly. Though he couldn’t read, he had committed all the recipes the Lord described to heart.
After a few more words, the Lord turned and left.
"His Lordship is a true nobleman who loves fine food," Wine Barrel sighed. "His ingenuity is endless. I’m proud to work at Porcupine Castle."
He turned to look at his little helper, Oak Pail, and saw that her face was bright red as she stared off into a daze.
"Don’t get any funny ideas!" Wine Barrel poured cold water on her dreams, promptly shattering her unrealistic fantasies. "You’re just a kitchen helper, so do the job you’re supposed to do. His Lordship is probably going to Iron Stone City for a ball. I hear Baron Simon’s ’Charming’ daughter has co of age."
Rembering the rumors about Baron Simon’s daughter, Wine Barrel prayed that his own Lord wouldn’t marry her. She was said to have trysts with male servants and even fool around with the grooms in the stables.
If his Lord really married her, he would beco a laughingstock. But Wine Barrel also understood that many a nobleman found it impossible to refuse Baron Simon’s daughter—not for her stunning beauty, but because her father was the lord of Iron Stone City and controlled a rich mine.
Wine Barrel shook himself out of his reverie. ’The affairs of nobles are not for to worry about.’ He turned and ordered, "Go wash the vegetables. His Lordship will eat before he departs."
"Yes!" Oak Pail nodded imdiately.
...
A Fiery-Mane horse carried the Baron forward, accompanied only by a few able-bodied guards, a personal attendant, and a carriage.
The carriage was loaded with Leech’s rchandise for the trip—the pills. If he had capable rchants, he could have ford a trade caravan and simply waited for the profits to roll in. But Porcupine Territory was still in the early stages of rebuilding, so there were so tasks the Lord had to handle himself.
A small, slender figure sat at the rear of the carriage, completely wrapped in a black cloak. Only when an occasional gust of wind swept by would a lock of fiery red hair be revealed from beneath the hood.
It was a girl.
The Baron hadn’t said a word about her, and no one dared to ask.
Leech had been rather surprised when the raven from Iron Stone City arrived. After all, his family had almost no connection to the old noble family of the Iron Hamrs, even though their territories were adjacent.
Still, it was a good opportunity—not because Leech planned to marry Baron Simon’s promiscuous daughter, but because he wanted to recruit so talent. He was sorely lacking manpower.
In terms of value for money in a wife, if a Red Rose ranked first, then this Baron’s daughter would forever be dead last. Unless you were drowning in debt or had a cuckolding fetish, it was best to stay far away from that woman. Otherwise, you could guarantee that every child she bore would have a different father.
But for the son of a rchant eager to climb the social ladder, or the second son of a noble family, marrying her was an opportunity for a teoric rise. Any children they had would have a good chance of becoming Knights, and everyone knew how much Baron Spark doted on his daughter.
Baron Simon was wealthy, commanded a large force, and controlled a mine. Even though he had a son, marrying his daughter would still secure a handso dowry. As long as you could feign colorblindness and not see the green on your head, you could live a very comfortable life.
After all, in East Gorge, there were plenty of nobles in worse situations than Leech.
So families lacked funds but sohow managed to have seven or eight children. Besides the eldest son who inherited the estate, the other children could only hope to serve as attendants to other nobles.
’Maybe I can recruit a few people willing to swear fealty to ?’ Leech mused, gripping his reins as his mind began to wander.
At the ball, the n would display their charms, hoping to capture the heart of a noble lady—or be captured by one.
But it was also a gathering of talent. The disfavored second and younger sons of certain families also hoped to find a path for their future at the ball.
Leech, after all, was a Baron. He had the right to create his own Knights. He was confident that many would be willing to co to Porcupine Territory to seek their fortunes.
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