by Kumo Kagyu
“Me… Leg of beef—on the bone and plenty grilled. And apple liqueur.”
“Oh, apples…” Witch murmured, narrowing her eyes. Her lips opened the little with a touch of longing, but immediately closed again.
Spearman gave an indifferent shrug. “You want some?”
“Not, necess—”
“Throw in a couple of grilled apples, then. I want one, too.”
“…Hrrrm.”
“Sure thing, I’ve got your order.”
Despite appearances, they could actually be pretty cute. That was the impression Padfoot Waitress got from Witch, who sat pursing her lips like a little girl.
Or is it because he’s here?
“Say, miss?” said Spearman.
“Yes?”
“Is Guild Girl still here?”
So much for her impressions of them.
Padfoot Waitress found her strength leaving her, but she held herself up, facing Spearman, who wore a serious expression.
She pushed her bangs aside and let out a breath. She was pretty sure Guild Girl was still working. The waitress knew well how late she sometimes stayed.
“…Yeah, it looks like she’s still here.”
“Yesss!”
Witch and Padfoot Waitress watched Spearman without enthusiasm as he made a fist and cheered.
Gosh, and when he has such a gorgeous woman right next to him… was a comment she had better keep to herself.
It was everyone’s own business who they fell in love with.
And yet, to think that “the frontier’s strongest” adventurer, someone whose skill with the spear could have put the Knights of the Capital to shame, would be this way…
He would look cooler if he kept his mouth shut.
She felt a bit uneasy as she considered that perhaps, if you learned everyone’s real reason for becoming an adventurer, it would be just as disillusioning as this.
Well, I suppose he’s easy to make friends with, if nothing else.
That was undoubtedly better than to be too aloof—wasn’t it? With that thought, Padfoot Waitress scuttled off toward the kitchen.
“Grape wine, duck sauté, leg of beef on the bone, well done, apple wine. And two grilled apples!”
“You got it! Take ’em the drinks first!”
“Yessir!”
Rhea Chef called out in a voice that belied his diminutive size. Padfoot Waitress responded with a shout to match.
When she brought the two their drinks, they offered her a smile and a “thank you,” and handed her the money.
“All right then, here’s to our ‘date.’”
“Yes. Bottoms, up.”
As if in harmony with the elegant clink of their glasses, the bell jangled again.
“S-so tired…”
“Come on, walk right! Geez!”
Two young novice adventurers came in, the very picture of fatigue and exhaustion.
Apprentice Priestess all but flung Rookie Warrior into a seat, then wiped the sweat from her forehead.
“Somehow I j-just don’t feel like eating…”
“Well, too bad! You have to eat!”
Suddenly, the girl looked up from scolding the boy, who seemed ready fall asleep at any moment.
Her eyes met those of Padfoot Waitress, and the adventurer girl blushed.
“Oh, s-sorry. Umm…One bowl of oatmeal, please, and bread for two…”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“Oh, and water!”
“On it!”
She headed over to the kitchen and relayed their order. Rhea Chef raised an eyebrow.
“Sure thing! Take it out with the grilled beef. Hrm, now, where’d that vinegar go?”
“I know, I know. Oh, the vinegar is on the shelf behind you.”
As the chef grinned and turned away, Padfoot Waitress pointed to one of the shelves. The chef grabbed a bit of cheese and dropped it onto the plate with the bread, then gave a satisfied nod.
“Okay, I’ll take these over, then!”
“You do that!”
She dropped off the sizzling, oily plate with Spearman and Witch and offered them a word of thanks. Then she pattered over to where the boy and girl sat, but Apprentice Priestess blinked at her.
“Huh? Sorry, we didn’t order this…”
“It’s okay, just eat it.” Padfoot Waitress gave a wave of her hand, pointing at the cheese with one hairy finger. “Anyway, someone will be by soon who can’t get enough of that stuff, and we’ll have to get a new round out. Need to clear out our stock!”
“Th-thank you.”
“Nah. Thank you for helping us with it!”
Having thus made a successful round of her tables, she went to the wall and sighed deeply.
The lively noise of the adventurers in the tavern threatened to turn into a ringing in her ears.
They were enjoying themselves laughing, shouting, and singing, and after eating and drinking, they would resume their merriment.
“Mm.” Padfoot Waitress found it satisfying just to stand there with her arms crossed, watching them.
Then…
“Ohhhh man, am I tired! I want some food and I want to go to bed!”
“There were an awful lot of goblins, weren’t there?”
The bell jingled again, and five more people came in. At the head of the party, throwing the door open with a bang, was a high-elf ranger. A priestess of the Earth Mother followed her.
“Well, a feast is customary after a battle. To drink, eat, make merry, and then sleep—in its own way, this is a remembrance of our enemies.”
“Indeed, but Beard-cutter will be off to hunt more goblins tomorrow, won’t you? Bit of a workaholic…”
Next came a lizardman with a solid, heavy step and a well-built dwarf caster.
And then came the last of them.
“Yes,” the adventurer said bluntly as he came through the door. Everyone in the tavern glanced at him.
Grimy leather armor, a cheap-looking helmet, a small, round shield attached to his arm, and at his hip, a sword of a strange length.
“We need the money,” Goblin Slayer said quietly.
“I’m sorry. If I had just a bit more vitality…”
Then High Elf Archer broke in as if to cover for the disappointed-sounding Priestess.
“Hey, don’t worry about it. Just let some other adventurers handle it.”
“If there are no goblins, we’ll consider it.”
“Sheesh, that’s how it always is with you.” High Elf Archer looked up at the ceiling in exasperation, wagging her ears.
“Hello, welcome!”
Padfoot Waitress trotted up to the entrance, greeting the adventurers with a bright smile.
There were plenty of wild and lawless adventurers, but these folk had a gentleness born of experience—one of them was Silver-ranked.
So it was only natural that she wanted to serve them with a smile.
“Oh-ho,” their intermediary, Lizard Priest, said with a roll of his eyes. “How fares milady waitress? Now, I desire to request some cheese…”
Padfoot Waitress let out a giggle at his somber tone. It was common knowledge that this lizardman had become quite taken with cheese in all its forms.
“What about the rest of you?”
“Hmm, I’ll have—what was it?—the thin stuff. Pasta? I’ll have that,” said High Elf Archer.
“Oh, um, s-something kind of light for me…,” mumbled Priestess.
“’S all this, then?” said Dwarf Shaman. “Am I the only one with a proper appetite? Meat, I say, meat! And a good, strong wine.”
“Something with meat, yes, sir!” Lizard Priest chimed in.
The hem of the waitress’s skirt billowed slightly as she turned to look at the final adventurer.
“Sir, our special today is the pike! Caught in the water town and grilled fresh!”
Just the right ingredients, perfectly done, and of course, the chef’s talents were beyond question. She informed him of all this
like a challenge, sticking out her average-sized chest as if to provoke a response.
“So what will it be?”
It was a bit of an impertinent way to talk to a customer, but she did not regard this man as a customer at the moment.
She stared at him, refusing to let him get away, and she thought she could see a red eye within his helmet.
“Nothing,” Goblin Slayer said. “I’m fine for today.”
§
“What’s with him? Is he crazy?!”
“Well, I don’t know about that…”
Padfoot Waitress cut off the workshop apprentice’s response by slamming her fist on the counter.
“I mean, adventurers are supposed to kill dragons and drink wine and laugh like Fwa-ha-ha-ha! That’s their job, isn’t it?”
“I won’t deny there are some like that.” The apprentice accepted the girl’s argument with an ironic smile, then stuck a fork in some fish on a plate. The well-done pike had started to cool a bit, but it was still fatty and delicious. It had lemon or some other seasoning on it, giving it a faint citrus smell that made his mouth water.
“Anyway, thanks for the snack. Mm, that’s good. Been a while since I’ve had fish.”
“I just didn’t want to waste the stuff that went cold. Don’t get the wrong idea!”
“I like how you’re not even saying that to cover your embarrassment or something.”
When had it become part of Padfoot Waitress’s daily routine to bring some food—really leftovers—like this?
It had been late at night, all the adventurers gone to their inns, and she was out of her uniform and cleaning up the tavern.
As she got ready to go home, she’d peeked into the workshop, where the apprentice boy was alone, tending the fire.
“What are you doing?” she had asked him, and he had said, “We can’t let the fire get low.”
Of course, that was just a pretext; with her sharp eyes, she saw that he was making a dagger.
It made sense. He had work during the day, so he had to make time for his own practice.
To Padfoot Waitress, it was an excellent chance; giving him the leftover food seemed the logical thing to do.
“People who can eat, should.”
“I think that’s a contradiction in terms…”
“That’s why it makes me so mad when people ignore my food!” Padfoot Waitress said, showing her anger by flicking her tail vigorously. It wasn’t clear how well the apprentice understood the uniquely padfoot gesture.
“Do you understand that this has to do with my honor as a waitress? Or not? I wonder if you even follow my logic!”
“Well…” The apprentice scratched one cheek with a fingertip in embarrassment. “…I guess I wouldn’t like it if the weapons I made were tossed just any old where.”
“I thought not.”
“That guy just throws swords every which way,” the apprentice grumbled. And the unfortunate blades were not even the work of the apprentice—he didn’t yet have permission to display his work in the store—but of his boss.
“The boss says, ‘You’re the only one who can be truly satisfied with your own work.’”
“Well, I want to get that weirdo to try the food at our tavern.”
“It’s not like he doesn’t eat, is it?”
“That’s just it!” Padfoot Waitress slumped across the workshop’s counter, which was polished to a shine. It pushed against her chest, such as it was, and the apprentice boy averted his eyes as casually as he could. “After his adventures, he usually doesn’t.”
“I—I guess I’ve heard of people who don’t eat before they go…”
“Awww, heck. Maybe he doesn’t like our menu…”
“This is really bothering you all of a sudden.” The apprentice’s eyes crept downward, and he hurriedly raised them again. His cheeks flushed. “What’s the matter?”
“I mean, he never used to come to the tavern, right?” she said, apparently unaware of his slipping gaze. “How long has he been here, anyway?”
“About five years, maybe?”
“I don’t know…”
To Padfoot Waitress, the question of which adventurer had appeared when was trivial. If one paid attention to such things, one would also remember when they disappeared. Once you started worrying about where so-and-so had gone after a while, you were lost. Better to put all your energy into welcoming the people who were here now. She had learned that her first year.
Come to think of it, didn’t the receptionist start to perk up around five years ago?
Padfoot Waitress lay there, her chest on the counter, muttering, “Hmm…”
The apprentice boy tried to keep from looking at her, but somehow kept glancing in her direction. His eyes would travel right, then left, again and again, until before long they had focused on a single point.
“Oh!”
“What?” Padfoot Waitress bounced up, her ears twitching.
“I don’t know if it’s true or not,” the apprentice boy said with a nod, “but I heard once that he likes stew. Beef.”
§
“Beef stew, is it?”
“Right!”
Stationed in front of a large, bubbling pot, Padfoot Waitress stuck out her chest, such as it was. Next to her, the chef stood on a stepladder to peer into the pot, crossing his arms and murmuring, “Hmm.”
“Sorry, Pops. You having to teach me and all.”
“Well, if you learn to cook, I can rest a little easier myself.”
“Aw, stop sounding your age, Pops.”
“I suppose maybe it is my age talking. I’m like butter spread too thin.”
“You mean your spirit?”
“It’s like I’ve been stretched and pulled.” With a “pardon me,” the chef took a spoonful of the stew and tasted it. “Mm, not bad. Let it simmer a little more.”
“All riiight!”
This would be her key to victory.
The chef glanced at Padfoot Waitress as she let out a full-throated “Yay!” and muttered:
“But I wonder how an adventurer will take it…”
“Huh?” She froze instantly. “Was it not good?”
“Ehh, I wouldn’t say that.” Although if he said anything, he might never stop. Rhea Chef scratched his round nose. “Well, give it a think.”
“…Darn it all. You’ll rue the day you gave me time to think!”
“Har har! Keep at it.”
Padfoot Waitress glared at her boss through half-open eyes as he waved his hand at her, then she returned her attention to the stewpot.
Staring intently at it was not the way to figure anything out, and yet…
“Oh, my, I thought I smelled something good in here…”
She heard a familiar voice and two sets of footsteps. The bell on the door hadn’t rung. The newcomers had come from elsewhere in the building.
Padfoot Waitress poked her head out of the kitchen and merrily raised her hand to her two colleagues.
“Hi! I’m just in the middle of cooking. Today’s special—beef stew!”
“Oh, stew, that’s great.”
“Oooh, beef stew!”
They were her colleagues—although strictly speaking, they were officials and she was just an assistant, even though the three of them all worked at the Guild.
But Padfoot Waitress didn’t heed such fine distinctions, nor was she nervous with Guild Girl and Inspector.
“Thanks. Huh? Are you both on lunch?” She could see when she peeked out the window that the sun was past its zenith and beginning to sink in the sky. It wasn’t quite twilight. “It’s pretty late for that.”
“We kind of missed it…”
“That’s no good, how do you expect to keep your body going that way?”
Or did they “miss” it because…?
Surely there was nothing wrong with letting her sharp eyes turn for an instant to one particular place.
“You’re right. I’m famished…” Guild Girl said, holding her sto
mach. Padfoot Waitress hated that stomach.
We’ve got to fatten her up.
“Okay, so, would you try some of this? We’ll be serving it to the adventurers tonight.”
“Of course, if you don’t mind,” Guild Girl said with a smile and a nod. Then she added, “Oh, but…”
“Hm?” Padfoot Waitress cocked her head.
Guild Girl said awkwardly, “…I wonder what adventurers will think of it.”
“Yeah… It looks kind of bloody,” Inspector said with a nod.
“Oh…”
Now that they mentioned it, she could see what they meant. The stock, which included tomatoes, was a reddish-black; chunks of meat bubbled up in the stew.
As Padfoot Waitress stood there muttering to herself, she felt a tiny hand smack her on the behind.
“Yeek!”
“’Scuse me, ladies, please don’t interfere with my lessons.”
It was, needless to say, the chef. The middle-aged man who had popped in from beside them gave his rotund belly an angry thump, and put on a stern expression. “I was hoping to see whether this girl would notice for herself.”
“Oh, my, pardon us.”
Guild Girl let slip a small giggle and, indicating the stew, said, “We’ll have lunch here, then. To apologize.”
“So you shall—eat plenty! Is just stew enough?”
“Oh, all right. Let’s see, then. Bread and… Could I get some black tea?”
“And plenty of jam to go with it!”
“My pleasure!”
Guild Girl and Inspector made their orders; Rhea Chef gave them a spirited answer and tightened his apron strings.
“Well now, don’t just stand there—to work, to work!”
“Ergggg—yessir!”
There was no helping anything now. The food was done, and whoever wanted to eat it would eat it.
Padfoot Waitress rushed around on her tasks, and in due course night came.
When the sun was well and truly set, adventurers poured into the tavern just as usual.
Unsurprisingly, the beef stew seemed unexpected, and takers were few.
Did they not want it right after an adventure? And yet serving beef stew first thing in the morning seemed…
“…Actually, maybe it would work to put it on the breakfast menu.”
She occupied herself with these optimistic thoughts until finally one adventurer came walking with a bold stride.