Chương 72: Chapter 26: Is That a Knife in Your Pocket, or Are You Just Happy to See Me?

When I finally snorted myself back awake, Wynnie had already left. The empty space where she usually slept felt lonely. Even with Shivai on my other side, I felt compelled to find the elf. Since I wouldn't be sword training today, I had the rare opportunity to help her with whatever prep she needed. Delicately, I desntangled myself from Shivai's greedy clutches. She whimpered and whined in her sleep, but she didn't wake. So far, she'd proven remarkably adept at sleeping in…

When she wasn't following me to watch me train, that is. I went to join Wynnie in the kitchen after brushing my teeth. The bustling innkeeper had scones to warm and coffee to make for our guests. She was just sneaking a freshly-warmed scone for herself when I entered, and she froze, caught in the act.

"Good morning! Sleep well?"

"Not bad," I said.

"How long was I out?"

"A little over an hour. Did you, um, think about the situation with Lady Talia at all?" I scratched the back of my neck as I crossed the room to her.

"Not exactly. I want to give her space. Or at least some time to come to terms with things before I try to fix them."

"Good instinct. If you chased her down now and forced a conversation, you'd probably just drive her away." She poured a steaming mug and offered it to me.

"Coffee?"

"Please." I accepted it and took a sip. Rich, earthy bitterness scalded my tongue, and I cooled it of with a bit of lemon scone.

"I thought I'd help you prep today. Need help with anything?"

"I think it'll be hot enough that we'd be better off keeping closed except for guests again." She popped the last bite of her scone in her mouth and licked her fingers clean. As she chewed, she looked thoughtfully at the makeshift cooler we'd fashioned.

"We have a bit of cream still, though. Maybe we could beat the heat by making some ice cream? I can feel my mana capacity growing." I nodded and immediately got to work. It felt good to be useful somehow. Not being able to fix things immediately with Lady Talia, and working with my hands helped. The custard came together quickly, each ingredient blending smoothly under my learned ministrations.

As Wynnie took the tray of scones and caraffe of coffee out to the guests trickling into the main room, I heated the custard slowly on the stove. Bar prep wouldn't take long after we finished with ice cream. After that, I'd have nothing but time. There were so many things I could do to fill it. Part of me wanted to try drawing more runes. Ever since the first night, when I discovered I had mana within me, my hopes had grown. Learning that I could potentially increase my mana capacity only made me more excited.

With enough practice, perhaps I could even shape it. Now, the mere idea of drawing a single, boring arcane rune filled me with excitement. But I'd need to temper my expectations. For starters, my inherent magic was minimal at best. Also, scribing runes was still visual art. That was a weakness of mine. I'd never been much into illustration, and it wasn't like I'd suddenly love practicing it, even with magic involved. Besides, something Lady Talia had said struck a chord.

She'd been worried about the pirates coming back. It reminded me that we were dealing with a lot more than just a simple heat wave. Our lives were on the clock. It was only a matter of time before the Black Ship Raiders returned. Practicing magic with no known benefits could wait. And without a stern dragonkin around to show me the ropes with swords, I had few other options to prepare for their return. The obvious one was to try my hand at more sneaky knife stuff.

Shivai wanted to see if I could conceal blades on my person. It sounded a lot easier than doing quickdraws and stabbing trees. Easier on the hands, for one. Plus, it wouldn't require hiking anywhere to get all sweaty and physical during a heatwave. Knife practice had the benefit of being relatively safe, too. I'd considered setting up some deterrents around the property, but decided against it. It wasn't like I was going to Home Alone the inn.

Booby traps were far more likely to hurt one of us or our guests than to somehow save the day against angry pirates. Besides, booby traps seemed like methhead energy. The last thing I needed was to turn The Best Inn in Town into a janky flophouse. My other option was to prepare mentally. I'd already been doing that, in a sense. Simply preparing myself for the possibility of stabbing people was a huge part of that. But I wanted a full mindset shift. Perhaps I wasn't being creative enough.

Since arriving in Seaport, I'd almost forgotten about some of the strengths I'd developed back on Earth. It wasn't just bartending where I got creative. Roleplaying in TTRPGs also gave me an outlet to flex my creative muscle. Maybe my wizard solved a few too many problems with fireball, sure. Yet for as conflagratory solutions I concocted, I also relied reasonably well on timely skill checks, a few feats, and some clutch racial and background abilities. Couldn't I do something like that here?

Didn't I also have a race? A background? A handful of well-honed skills that could improve my chances at succeeding in situations that called on something similar? Perhaps if I thought about my abilities in gaming terms, I'd be more likely to call on them. This was, I knew, all theoretical. In all likelihood, it would have no bearing on my success or failure at all. At best, it would be little more than a thought experiment that could, with some luck, change the way I approached challenges. So, yeah.

Knife practice. Wynnie reentered the kitchen still holding the silver serving tray. The scones were gone. Only crumbs and the translucent white of icing remained glued to the surface. The caraffe had to be out on the bar counter still—she usually put it there for self-serve refills after she'd done her rounds. She hummed a tune I couldn't recognize. The tray clattered in a shrill metal register as she set it down next to me. Warm lips blossomed against my cheek in a tender, jubilant kiss.

"Guests are mostly set. I think some of the merfolks are still sleeping though, so I'm gonna heat up the rest of the scones." She cocked her head, eyeing me curiously.

"Why do you look… mischeivous?" I gulped.

"Do I?"

"Are you up to something?" Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

"Not yet," I confessed, still a bit nervous about using her cutlery after what happened the last time.

"But I think I might need some knives." Her face fell.

"Oh no. Not again. We talked about this!"

"This time is different." I thought about my past skills. There was nothing quite like deception or persuasion, but I had sales in spades. That was close enough, right?

"I'm working on something that Shivai thinks could help us defeat the pirates. No knives will be harmed in the process. I think."

"Would pirates be harmed in the process?"

"Eventually. That's the idea, at least." She placed her hands on her hips and scrutinized me. Then, she sighed.

"Okay, tell me more."

"I won't even do any stabs. It's all about being sneaky," I explained.

"Shivai wants me to hide them all over my body, and then she's going to try to find them." She raised an amused eyebrow.

"Is that what she said? You don't think maybe she came up with that just to give herself an excuse to pat you on the rump?" Well, sure. Now that she said it like that.

"Who knows? Maybe it's not that." I continued even as Wynnie nodded in sarcastic exaggeration.

"Maybe she just wanted to fondle my—""Drew!"

"—ego. I was going to say ego."

"Sure you were. Well, if she's hoping for some easy groping, she needs to ask permission."

"Even after last night? I thought we kinda, y'know, opened things up." Wynnie just smirked.

"Mostly. But I kinda liked being in control. After so many years of feeling like I didn't have a handle on things, it felt good to be completely in charge." She sighed, then shrugged.

"She can feel you up whenever, I guess. I'll look for other opportunities to mete out spankings." For such a sweet, kind, girl-next-door type, Wynnie appeared to have a real mean streak. I hoped for Shivai's sake that her methods of dagger training weren't just a ruse to get her hands all over my body. Otherwise, her methods would prove to be a double-edged blade. I grabbed a few paring knives from the wooden block. They were small and light, but uncomfortably sharp.

I wasn't sure where I was going to hide them, but I'd have to be careful. One wrong move and I might puncture a vein, finishing the pirates' job for them before they even arrived.

"Best time to stab someone is when they don't even know they're in the fight," I muttered. I just wished the situation were less precarious for me. Sure, I wanted to do the stabbing, but I didn't also want to be the stabbed.

"Do we have anything I can use to strap these to me?" Wynnie looked at me with squinted eyes. She her lips in thought.

"Like twine?"

"I was hoping for some kind of elastic band. Maybe a hair tie or a scrunchie." That resonated about as deeply as I'd expected, which was not at all. A couple of months in a fantasy land hadn't banished Earth knowledge from my mind completely.

"I don't suppose we have any sheaths for these?"

"Just stick them in your pockets. Easy to find, but you gotta start somewhere, right?" On the one hand, it'd certainly set a low bar to improve upon. Whatever my second attempt was, it'd be better than letting the knives jangle uselessly in my pocket. I could only think of one worse place than my pockets, and there was no way I was going to holster a knife in the ol' prison wallet. Better to make an honest effort. If I was going to learn, I might as well give myself the opportunity.

I started by sticking one in my waistband. I could feel the cold, deadly edge digging into my skin. There was no way I could walk around with it normally. I'd have to change my gait to accommodate its pointy potential. I stuck the second one hilt-down in my sock. I don't know why. Blade down seemed more dangerous somehow. Not that I could grab the blade to yank it out quickly either way. At least my boneheaded mistakes would entertain the demonkin scoundrel.

The final blade I tied loosely to my forearm and covered with the loose sleeve of my tunic. Moving too much would definitely dislodge it, so I'd have to be careful. As if I weren't already planning to be careful, what with the threat of stabbing or disembowelment in every movement.

"Shivai is going to see through those so quickly. It's like you're not even trying." Wynnie shook her head and clucked her tongue at me.

"Do you want to impress the girl, or do you want her to laugh at you?"

"I was kind of hoping she'd laugh with me."

"Oh, sweetie."

"That bad, huh?" I fiddled with the knives and felt cold steel press against my skin.

"I thought this was pretty good."

"They're poking out everywhere. And you'll probably stab yourself if you move the wrong way. I could do a way better job than that."

"I mean, of course you could do better." I continued fidgeting even as Wynnie folded her arms skeptically.

"You could practically hide a sword in your bosom and nobody would know." Wynnie flapped her hands in a flustered flutter.

"You can't just say things like that! I know I'm... well-endowed, but you don't have to tease."

"I'm not teasing. I'm complimenting your tactical advantages."

"Oh, hush." Wynnie scratched her chin and looked me up and down carefully.

"I'm serious, though. Do you want to impress that girl or what?" I didn't have to search too far for the answer.

"Yeah, I want to impress her."

"Good answer."

"You mean, it would be stupid if I didn't want to impress the girl who appears to be joining our relationship?" Wynnie nodded.

"That, and you might as well take things seriously. I know just how to conceal a blade on your body without having to worry too much that it will immediately stab you. Or fall out of whatever spot you stashed it in and clatter on the floor."

"Okay, show me." Wynnie wiped her hands on her apron and looked around the kitchen. She didn't have to search long. After a few seconds, she walked over to a cloth napkin folded neatly on the counter. With exaggerated casualness, she wrapped the blade of a knife in the cloth, then handed it to me.

"Here's one way. Fabric sheath. Soft, protective, easy to pull the blade out in a second without a latch or clasp." I held the blade in my hand. The napkin wrapped loosely around it. It would easily pull free without any special technique.

"Duh. Okay, you said there's another way. What is it?"

"Easy. Custom leather sheath, and just a bit loose. Wouldn't take more than a day or two from the local tanner. He does decent leather work."

"Think that'd do it?" I put the knife back at my ankle where it had started. It felt less dangerously stabby, though still uncomfortable enough to change how I walked.

"Wanna help me with the others?" Wynnie agreed vigorously, apparently more than happy to help. Given I was at risk of bleeding out over a stubbed toe, that made sense. With each stashed knife, she double-checked that the tip wouldn't puncture me if I moved unusually. Then, she helped me test the sheathing and unsheathing process a few times, taking care that the fabric slips stayed protective and didn't get tangled as I yoinked the blades out.

She even looped a bit of twine around each knife location to keep things from jostling loose. When we finally finished, I felt heavily armed, yet stealthily so. All of a sudden, I felt like there were new problem-solving options right at my fingertips. I could imagine carrying myself differently now that I had an armory strapped to me.

"There," she said, patting me down to double-check her work.

"Now you're dressed to impress. I can't believe you didn't know how to do that!"

"You know, where I'm from, most people don't conceal blades all over their bodies."

"Your people were mostly nonviolent?" I certainly wouldn't say that. I'd grown up knowing what it meant to see a certain level of relative global peace with widespread trading partners. The Pax Americana, for all its stability, hadn't come without consequences. Basically, it means there was little actual peace. Even in the last decade or so, wars and military activities were widespread. Georgia. Ukraine. Sudan. Afghanistan. Iran. Israel. And that was to say nothing of the violence in my own backyard.

"Uh, mostly we just use weapons way scarier than knives." I could see her about to guess what I meant, so I headed it off.

"Scarier than swords, too." Things were taking a dark turn. There were a lot of things I missed about Earth. My friends. My family. Opening a bottle of fine bourbon and installing a new game for a quiet night in. A good book. But the things I'd left behind evened it out. Sure, maybe there were pirates here, but there was no fentanyl. No— Dammit. I was doing it again. Spiraling. Worrying about a world I no longer lived in or could change. No, I was here. I ran a cute inn with a gorgeous innkeeper.

And we'd just made a significant step forward in our relationship with a passionate scoundrel. And she was enthusiastic, too.

"Knock knock!" I whipped my head around to see Shivai in the entrance to the kitchen. Speak of the devil, and she will appear. Or demon, I guess.

"Who's there?"

"Um, it's Shivai." She seemed confused, wondering who else I could possibly be talking to. But I was too far in at that point. I had to see the Earth joke through.

"Shivai who?" It was time to see if my concealed weapons passed muster. Or if my bad jokes would land here as well as they did back on Earth.