Chương 24: Quiet Work and Kitchen Talk

Lira spent the next hour working on restoring a book, page by page. The volume about the history of the mage guild was nearly beyond saving, its pages warped, and the ink faded into near invisibility. It was one of the books she had thrown into the discard pile without a second thought just days ago. To her delight, she noticed an increase in efficiency near the end, practice or experience, making her work faster than before.

Lira could even imagine creating an advanced spell that restored books as a whole once she had more than just one cantrip. She figured that her adding ink and doing the restoration page by page was because her spell was about fast writing on paper. A different spell using keywords like "restoration" and "book" would be more efficient, but it would also probably be more advanced than a simple cantrip. Now the volume sat before her, mostly whole again.

She couldn't do anything about the leather cover yet, but still, it was readable, which was all that mattered to her. She winced slightly as her head throbbed. A dull ache, building steadily behind her eyes.

"…Right," she muttered.

"Limits." The spell had come easily to her, but that didn't mean it was without cost. She closed the book and set it aside carefully.

"Enough magic for today." She shifted her focus back to cleaning, moving through the shelves with slower, more deliberate motions. As she worked, she kept an eye out for something more specific. Useful books, something related to magic. The governess texts had already proven their worth. She needed similar books. She began setting aside a new stack. Books on mage logistics. Records of correspondence between the crown and the mage guild. Instructional texts.

Even old fairy tales, if they hinted at what magic might be capable of. Anything that could give her an edge. Anything that could help her understand the limits of what she could do. Her pile grew slowly but steadily. As she worked, a thought crept into her mind.

"If I can speed up writing…" Her fingers paused on the spine of a book.

"…then I should be able to speed up reading." The idea made sense. Writing and reading were two sides of the same coin after all. She had already shaped a spell for one. Finding a spell for the other shouldn't be impossible. She had the impulse to drop what she was doing and start working on it, but she didn't act on it. Lira exhaled and shook her head slightly.

"Tomorrow." She needed to pace herself. One discovery at a time. Later that day, she finished her work at the library early. The ache in her head hadn't fully gone away, and reading book spines wasn't helping her case. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Instead, she made her way to the kitchens.

The warmth hit her first, followed by the familiar rhythmic sound of people working: knives on wood, pots simmering, and quiet conversation weaving through it all. Old Marga stood at her usual station, cutting through a pile of vegetables with practiced ease. Lira stepped in without a word, grabbed a knife, and sat down beside her.

"You're back," Marga grunted without looking up.

"I needed a break from the library," Lira replied lightly, reaching for a potato and starting to peel. In reality, Lira was here because it was a good spot for gossip, and she couldn't afford to be completely out of the loop. Maren was already there, working through a basket of onions, makeup on point despite the choice of vegetable. Lira always had tears running down her face when she cut onions.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, glancing over.

"Better," Lira said.

"Just needed some rest." Brenneth, old Marga's sous-chef, was standing across from them.

"What happened to you anyway?" she asked. Maren answered before Lira could.

"She's been cleaning that library alone," she said.

"It's already looking a lot better. But she pushed too hard and collapsed." Lira felt heat rise to her cheeks. Even if she had cheated a little, it was still nice to have her work acknowledged.

"So it was you," Brenneth said, giving her a more measured look.

"You were the sick maid." Lira nodded.

"Celene told us to send food with Tessa," she added. At that, Marga looked up.

"Hard work deserves proper food," she muttered. She set her knife down and pushed herself up with a quiet groan, her joints cracking audibly as she moved. A moment later, she returned with a small plate.

"Here," she said, placing it in front of Lira. It was a piece of pond cake. Lira blinked.

"That's…"

"Some of the nobles' leftovers," Brenneth finished.

"Eat." Marga nodded at that.

"You earned it," added Maren. Lira didn't argue and took a bite. It was sweet, soft, and rich in a way she wasn't used to. The tension in her body eased almost immediately, the dull ache in her head fading slightly under the sugar.

"…Thank you," she said quietly. Marga grunted in response but didn't hide the faint hint of satisfaction. With her hands busy and her body relaxing, Lira let the conversation drift. After listening for a bit, she decided to shift the conversation.

"So," she said casually, "I had visitors today." Maren perked up.

"Visitors?"

"Three guards," Lira said.

"One older man, face full of scars. And two younger ones. One of them was the second prince, the other was some blonde noble." That got their attention.

"Oh?" Brenneth said.

"So you met his knightly Highness?"

"I didn't recognize him at first," Lira admitted.

"I'm glad I stayed respectful." Maren laughed softly.

"Lucky for you. He isn't too demanding for a royal. I heard he makes his own bed when he wakes up. Can you believe that?"

"What about the others? Do any of you know who they might be?" Lira asked.

"The older guard, especially." Marga snorted loudly.

"That old bastard?" she said.

"That would be Sergeant Salvek." Her knife came down harder than necessary on the cutting board.

"He keeps sticking his nose where it doesn't belong," she went on.

"The guards have their own cooks, but he still comes in here telling me how to do my job." Brenneth chuckled.

"He thinks he can discipline the staff like he does the guards."

"He can keep his discipline out of my kitchen," Marga shot back.

"I am his senior by fifteen years. I was in charge of the kitchen before he got hired as a fresh recruit." Lira filed the name away.

"Salvek," she repeated quietly.

"And the younger ones?" she asked. Maren picked that up.

"Prince Aric always hangs out with Sir Deren Valis," she said.

"They train together all the time."

"Technically, both of them are knights," Brenneth added.

"Though Sir Valis is a baron's son by birth."

"Only a baron's son? Then why is he so close to the prince?" Lira asked.

"Because he's a really good duelist," said Maren enthusiastically.

"Apparently, he has yet to lose a formal challenge, despite his young age." Brenneth smirked.

"Prince Aric trains like he has something to prove, and Deren is the only noble his age who can keep up." Marga huffed.

"At least the young ones know how to stay useful for nobles," she muttered.

"And they don't bother me like that old goat Salvek." Lira kept some mental note just in case. A prince who wanted to be useful. A noble friend who followed him. And an old guard who watched everything with suspicion.

"Good to know," she said. Maren glanced at her.

"Why? Planning something?" Lira shook her head lightly.

"Just making sure I don't catch the eye of the wrong people." The rest nodded; they knew the risks of the job. And with Steward Atropos dead, an extra layer of protection was missing for the maids. Lira kept working in the kitchen until the dinner bell, after which she and Maren joined Tessa at her table for a meal and extra gossip. After that, she headed to the dorm to sleep early. Tomorrow, there would be more magic to uncover.