The Flying Emporium

Knock Knock

Two loud knocking sounds roused Severin from his sleep. Immediately, he sat up inside the huge, comfy bed and scanned his surroundings.

“The mistress lets you know that dinner will be served in half an hour. If you would join her in the small dining room in the east wing.” Severin was still drowsy, but hearing the voice coming from the other side of the door reminded him where he was.

After his dealings with Mr Everheart had concluded surprisingly quickly, Mylana had announced that it was still some hours until dinner would be served, that until then she had some personal business to take care of, and invited a tired Severin to rest in one of her mansion’s many guest rooms, in the meantime.

A lot of correspondence and organizational matters had accumulated in her absence, Mylana explained. Her departure apparently had been rather sudden, with no time to leave behind any instructions for her staff, causing chaos and all kinds of troubles; even after knowing she was staying close by, her employees would never dare follow and questioning her for instructions. So this time, before she would once again leave for a prolonged time, she wanted to handle things more properly.

This explanation once again reminded Severin of how much Mylana had given up when joining him. That despite her at times questionable attitude, she must truly care for the Emporium; otherwise, to him, her sacrifice wasn’t making much sense.

This thought touched Severin. And it also made him suspect that this explanation might just be an excuse, and Mylana’s way of being considerate towards him. Because surely making some arrangements couldn’t have been that difficult? And nothing looked even remotely like her people didn’t have a full grasp on everything. Besides, it wasn’t like he had kept Mylana so busy that she didn’t even have the time to take care of some pressing personal business.

Though kind of curious, he didn’t dwell too much on this question. After a sleepless night, the prospect of a few hours of rest was all that really mattered to him.

Now, though grateful, Severin felt even these few hours of rest had been far too little.

Still, he managed to resist the temptation of the warm nest he had built himself and forced himself to get up; though according to the voice that had called out to him, it was still some time until his presence at dinner was required; on the other hand, it was too soon for him to go back to sleep again.

Severin washed his face and made himself look presentable. Then he left the room that was bigger than his own apartment back on the mountain and went on a short exploration through the spacious mansion.

He found that his guestroom was only one of many, though it appeared as if his was the only one currently inhabited.

He found a courteous staff member-not the one who had called out to him, that one had simply disappeared after delivering their message- who pointed out that additionally to the sink and toilet in each of those rooms, there was a large bathing facility available to him in one of the basements. He learned that it was designed so that it could hold all the manor’s potential guests at once.

That description intrigued Severin, but as he didn’t want to stray too far, he decide to trust her word on that; based on the scale of everything else he had seen so far, there was no reason for him to doubt the description.

Instead, he kept following the general direction the steward had pointed out, past smoking, reading, and several other entertainment rooms, towards the small dining hall while leisurely appraising the many paintings and other exhibition objects put on display along the way.

Only to find himself wondering if he had somehow gotten lost, when half an hour later he stood not just inside the by far largest room he had come across during his time in the mansion, but also in front of the greatest amount of food he had ever seen in one place.

‘The small dining hall? Nothing fancy?’ Those words repeated in his mind over and over again, as he stood there, staring like a country-bumpkin.

“Will you finally sit down and join me?”

“R-Right,” but eventually the admonishing voice confirmed that he was in fact in the right place.

Slowly, at first, he approached the richly laid table.

Two steps later, his stomach betrayed him. The next instant, he sat opposite Mylana, who was well hidden behind a proverbial mountain of food.

Severin didn’t know where to even to start, and seeing that Mylana didn’t intend to offer him any help-much less an explanation for this almost obscene amount of food-he could only shrug his shoulders before loading his plate-or rather plates- with all kinds of different foods, never seen, smelled, or tasted before.

Different cuts of meat and fish, odd colored soups, salads and cheeses. Strangely shaped fruits and vegetables, pasta dishes and baked goods.

Some sweet, some spicy. Some hot, others cold.

But every single one of them tasty.

‘If Em ever finds out about this, I’ll never hear the end of it.’ But despite his bad conscience, Severin didn’t stop stuffing himself. At this point, his table manners had already been long forgotten.

It wasn’t just the overall taste of every single item he tried, or the novelty of trying the food of a different culture- a different world even-, though those were certainly part of it. But it was also the lack of a System actively inhibiting his sense of hunger that made gorging himself on delicacies just that much more enjoyable.

Every single bite was a culinary revelation and Severin was well tempted to call back Everheart and add a trained chef to the list of people he wanted to hire. If someone with such skills had access to his never-ending supply of special ingredients, the result would be unparalleled.

With every bite Severin had to consciously remind himself that he already had other plans, and that to the average adventurer, while they were certainly not opposed to fine cuisine, the actual taste of his dishes was only a secondary concern and not the main draw of his cafe.

Despite his better judgement, and his expanding stomach, Severin couldn’t pass this opportunity to taste everything at least once. That didn’t just include the food itself, but also several kinds of drinks.

Yet somehow in the end, when he was finally done and not even a morsel could pass his lips, the amount of food on the table didn’t seem to have decreased even in the slightest.

He wondered what would happen to all the leftovers, but didn’t have the energy to ask. Even thinking had become exhausting.

His stomach was budging and a wave of nausea washed over him; forty minutes after the beginning of dinner, Severin wished for nothing more than to be carried back to the bed in his room and be left alone for at least one whole week.

If only Magda, who he didn’t know if she had even touched the food, hadn’t had other plans for him.

“About time you’re done. We need to get going if we want to arrive on time. Don’t want to make a bad first impression now, do you?”

“Wha~?” Surely this had to be a cruel joke? At first Severin didn’t at all understand what Mylana was talking about. Until it slowly started to dawn on him.

“Already?”

“What do you mean already?” she chastised. “Do you have any idea how long you have slept?”

He didn’t, and Mylana’s raised eyebrow indicated she already knew his answer.

“Really?” he instead asked.

“Really. Now let’s go. I reckon you can use the exercise.”

Again, the woman proved to be right. Half an hour of light physical activity later, and Severin didn’t feel like he could burst any minute.

Now his attention was more focused on the other properties in the upper-class district they were currently walking through.

But while certainly impressive, he noticed that none of those they passed seemed to even come close to Mylana’s in terms of size or splendor. None of the properties, much less the actual mansions, could compare.

Which beget the question. Was there another noble quarter he didn’t know about?

Because if not, what did this say about Mylana and her status?

With renewed curiosity, Severin turned his head towards the old woman walking next to him.

“What are you looking at? Better keep moving, we are almost there,” without halting her steps, she raised her crane, proving once again that old thing was only for show, and pointed into the distance.