Violet chose sweet, and Emmy chose spicy.

During Daire's attempts at altering his glaze recipes, a few mixtures were so appalling that he couldn't stomach them. Ultimately they got tossed to Trinket.

They still lay there, untouched.

Reluctantly he realized he couldn't knowingly contribute to the littering epidemic in Milton with a clean conscience. On a whim, he altered one of his four barrels into a disposal barrel. All it took was lining the inside edges with mint leaves.

It didn't help any, but the effort was there.

Having a good nose was something Daire held mixed feelings about. His eyes weren't the best, strained from reading. His hearing was selective at times and could be sensitive on other occasions. However, his sense of smell was abnormally acute.

It is unusual because, typically, women have a better sense of smell than men do. At least that was what Daire read in a wiki article.

It took adjusting, a lot of adjusting, to get used to the smells of a medieval city.

Daire could have left his failed experiments on the ground and no one would have batted an eye. Littering wasn't a proper word. It was natural! Have you seen the condition of the street? It was as if rioters looted a shopping mall in downtown Chicago. That was Milton's default.

The street smelled. So, so bad. Like wet trash mixed with piss and feces.

It's easy to imagine why people swarmed his shop yesterday from the smell alone—a haven from the awful and ghastly.

Daire tried not to dwell on it, but he couldn't help wonder how people lived like this. Trapped within an overpopulated walled city without any distractions. It must be even worse for the races with keen senses. He couldn't even imagine how the beastkin survived. Maybe that was why he didn't see too many.

Taking all of this into account, he made sure his area was nice and clean. Daire couldn't have a foul storefront.

Tidiness. A clean appearance. Him... Violet... and his shop.

Trinket?

Daire looked over to see the bear rolling around on the ground, attaching trash to his fur like a glue trap.

A bear would always be a bear.

Turning back to the cooking meat, Daire couldn't help but inhale the wonderful scents.

The glazes were different today. Yesterday there was only one standard glaze. The people of Milton likely thought it miraculous that he mixed herbs to make food taste better. Herbs, mixes, glazes, spices, toppings, and more weren't usually used in combination outside of alchemy or the highest restaurants. And maybe some bakers.

The problem Daire found out while mixing was how they interacted with one another. One spice would overpower a seasoning. Another two could cancel out entirely. Some had a crunch that didn't belong. One combination spontaneously combusted...

That wasn't my fault.

Trying to create a valid combination was increasingly difficult the more ingredients that were added.

Common sense for most.

Honey is sweet, sticky. Pepper is usually spicy. The two shouldn't go together. Daire tried. It was terrible, yet still somehow better than yesterday's mix.

Daire looked up a glaze recipe on his phone, yet it tasted more like leaves than meat. Maybe it was his application. It was probably his application. But Daire was intent on creating something simpler.

So Daire made sweet and spicy rabbit skewers.

Sweet. Then Spicy.

Not Sweet and Spicy.

He watched as Violet practically inhaled her food and Emmy nibbled on hers.

Strange.

Was it a stereotype to think Emmy would swallow the meat whole? She was part snake, after all.

Daire supposed that the shy human part did the eating while the snake part contributed to her tastes. Besides, Emmy's entire upper half was human. It would be extremely disconcerting to see her unhinge her jaw and swallow the whole-

Come to think of it, what kind of snake is she? A Cobra? A Viper? A squeezer or poisoner?

Her scales were red. Not bright, more coppery, and subdued. Actually, it could have been a dull viridian that only looked coppery in the darkness.

Daire realized green and red were two completely different colors. Colors were his specialty.

Let's just call it a dusky clover color. So. Green.

Emmy definitely wasn't part chameleon.

Because Chameleons are lizards, Daire. Stop thinking about it so hard.

Daire watched as she nibbled on her meal with delight, her cheeks rosy. Maybe it was the spiciness. Maybe it was being watched while eating. It definitely wasn't the gnome's orange herb.

Give that kind of drug to a 15-year-old? No. Never. Uh-uh. Not a chance in hell.

The gnome could rot for all he cared. Besides, the rule stated he only had to buy it and not resell it. There was no clause about him being required to use it.

Daire supposed it would cause a little misunderstanding in returning customers, but he could always make it an option. He would request some identification stating they were over 18 years of age and...

Really, Daire? Identification? If there is any doubt, hand them a regular one.

The point was that it was unethical and devious. A drug, an aphrodisiac that mainly affected women? What the hell! Were all gnomes pervs? He wanted people to enjoy his food, not become addicted.

Daire would sell his skewers to see if it really was his cooking that attracted so much attention. He would offer... untainted meat. If consenting adults wanted another portion with the additive, he would do it.

Should I have them eat here to make sure they didn't get in trouble elsewhere? Or would letting them run off to hide their embarrassment be more kind? But what if they were followed because of their lewd faces?

There was something wrong with Daire's head today.

Literally shaking away the chaotic thoughts, he glanced at his first customer. Violet was still entranced, and Emmy wasn't any better at the moment, so he decided to serve the customer himself.

"Welcome! I have sweet or spicy skewers today. Which one- Oh."

It was the woman from yesterday—his first customer.

A bulky woman stood in front of his stand. She had a bandana covering her forehead, a tuft of hair coming out the back. Sweat lightly coated her bronze skin. From running? The woman leered at the grilling meat.

"Welcome back. I apologize for the... reaction my food may have caused. There was an additive with properties I was unaware of. Today it isn't present. Would you prefer sweet or spicy chick- I mean, rabbit?"

Daire almost made a slip of the tongue. Sweet and spicy chicken was great. It was what he preferred. Instead, he was stuck with bunnies.

The woman looked up from the grill. Her voice was high for her stature.

"Sweet? Spicy? I don't understand. Is it different from yesterday?"

Poor heavens no... really?

"Yes. If you prefer something sweet, it can be soothing and savory. The spice I am using is hot but not scorching. It will likely startle you if you're not ready for it, but it can definitely be a wake-up call if you are tired."

The woman wiped at her cheek with a palm. Unfortunately, it only spread a bit of grime. Daire wasn't perturbed. He admired her for working so hard.

She dug around for coins.

"I will take a sweet one then."

Daire held up his hands.

"Tell you what. Considering you have been my first customer, I will offer you a deal."

She paused, knitting her brows.

"Uh-"

Daire clarified.

"You are a mason, no? I would love to exchange pointers. I am a type of builder myself."

"How did you know I was a mason?"

Daire chuckled lightly.

"You are still carrying your tools. And there is mortar on your hands."

"Ah! I'm so sorry."

She tried wiping her palms on her pants, but it was difficult with her tools slung under one arm.

Daire waved a hand in front of his face as he adjusted the sizzling meat.

"Don't worry about it. I understand you came straight from work. And it would have been horribly embarrassing if I was wrong."

She chuckled a little bit, perhaps nervously.

"You are right. I just- I just didn't think people would pay that much attention to my appearance."

Daire could take that a few different ways. He decided to take a step back. Metaphorically and literally. He retreated, reaching behind him to grab the sweet honey-glaze he prepared and applied it to the meat while he talked.

"Your meal will be ready in a few minutes. I'll let you have this one free of charge for the misunderstanding. I should have phrased my words better."

"What! No, no, you're fine. If you really are a builder, I wouldn't mind talking about work. I was just surprised, that's all."

Rila put a hand to her chin. Sighing in memory.

"I appreciate the chance. Yesterday's meal... It was almost magical. I scraped together what I can for another meal, but I'm just a mason. I don't earn enough to eat meat continuously, and there is a lot of competition for my job."

Daire practiced his neutral business smile.

"It must be difficult to work from dusk to dawn in the heat."

"Oh, no, not at all. I am used to it. Plus, It hasn't truly gotten hot yet."

Rila hefted her toolbox, catching a falling tool before it could tip out.

"It is all for the city—the soon-to-be City of Milton. We've been a frontier town for a while now. I wasn't here when it was an outpost, but I'm excited to see Milton's rise."

"Sounds like an exciting event. To be a part of the transition, that is. You must be proud."

The woman smiled broadly. She had good teeth.

"Very!"

Daire turned the meat a little before remembering.

"Ah. I haven't introduced myself yet. My name is Daire. This is my partner Violet-"

He gestured to Violet. The pixie remained entranced in glorious consumption.

"-We founded Violet Spark Trading."

It felt good to say. Really good.

"Nice to meet you both. I'm Rila."

Violet rose from her indulging. Standing, she curtsied with a content smile, tainted only by a smudge of honey near the corner of her lips.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Daire suppressed a laugh. She must have read that line recently. He made a mental note to ask what was on her reading list.

"Your meal is done."

Rila beamed, taking her food. She immediately aimed for a bite but stopped short.

"I, uh, haven't paid yet."

"It's fine, it's fine. Go ahead and eat. I can pull up a chair, or you can go eat in peace and come back later. Now that we've been formally introduced, I trust you."

He wouldn't be so petty to make a fuss over twenty coppers. He merely wouldn't serve her without payment next time.

Rila looked around for a seat, glancing at her food all the while. Daire noticed the predicament and raised a finger.

"Just a moment."

Daire closed his eyes for a moment, feeling, seeing the brown earth all around him. The colors called to him. The scalding fire was distracting, a tiny voice calling out. Daire ignored it, searching for a blind spot behind his cart.

Grabbing dirty, earthy brown, he twirled it into a chair. Compacted and sturdy.

Opening his eyes and letting out a breath, he stepped behind his cart and grabbed the chair. He placed it nearby for Rila to sit comfortably.

He idly wondered if he should create more chairs or even an entire seating area, but his food was more suited to a grab-and-go style. The earthen furniture he created wasn't a work of art, but it would hold weight as long as a certain black bear didn't sit in it.

Violet eyed Daire for a moment before attending to the next customer in line. Emmy didn't notice his magic act, still halfway into her first meal. Daire could tell Emmy would want another... and another... and maybe a few more after that.

Trinket had stopped rolling around and was staring fixedly at the grilling meat. The bear hasn't been fed yet, and he was getting antsy. Have you ever seen a bear do the potty dance on all fours?

Can I laugh? Is it alright that I laugh? If I do, will he suddenly decide that I am tastier?

If Daire conceded early, Trinket would run him out of business.

Rila was too preoccupied with her meal to wonder where the chair came from or notice the dancing bear. She set her tools down and dug into her meal, drowning out the noise of the thoroughfare.

Daire was about to inform Rila of the water barrel for cleaning the mortar of her hands but decided against interfering in a woman's meal.

Turning away, he helped Violet in serving the next few customers drawn by the smell.

As the line was already seven people long, Daire could tell it would be a busy night.