“You’re too skinny. You should eat more.”

“I’m fine with this much.”

“You can’t possibly be. Is the food not to your liking?”

“No, I’m just not a big eater.”

“Here, have some more.”

“Really, Auntie, I’m fine.”

“We have this exact conversation every time I come over. And every time I end up winning, so you might as well save yourself the effort. Here.”

I sighed, but let Aunt Detion pile food onto my plate. She came over every two weeks to have dinner with us, and every time she did she insisted that I wasn’t eating enough and kept pushing food on me much like my grandma would.

Today, we were eating roast pork with salad. And potatoes. Lots of potatoes. The people here sure liked their potatoes. I don’t think we’d ever gone a single meal without potatoes. It was like rice, but Irish. Potato.

I took a drink out of my cup. Yes, my cup. After two weeks of living here, we’d all gone out to celebrate my presence by purchasing a mug all for me. It was pitch black with a dark purple handle, my two favourite colours together. An incredibly warm feeling had filled my chest when Arsral had placed it in my hands with “Here, this cup is now yours.”

Arswen pushed the jug of greckleberry juice over to me when I gestured for it, and I refilled my mug. Greckleberries are bright green, so I thought it’d be sour. I was very wrong. They weren’t sour at all. They tasted like a mix between blueberries and pear.

“So, a little birdie told me you gave quite the talking to the lord’s son,” Aunt Detion mentioned.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I replied immediately. “A lowly peasant such as myself would never be as audacious as to scold a member of high society.”

“Why are you hiding it?” Arsral raised an eyebrow, placing a piece of meat in his mouth. When he’d finished swallowing it, he pointed his fork at me. “Audacious it might have been, but that fool needed to be dealt with sooner or later. If you hadn’t done it yesterday, I would have done it eventually.”

 “Ugh, I just- I don’t know.”

I sighed and put my chin on the table.

“I just think I could have handled it better, you know? Be all cool and calm... Losing my temper is just so blegh,” I complained. I thought back to my twelvie days and cringed. Back then I thought being violent was cool for some reason. Was probably influenced by too much shounen manga.

“Joan, you’re weird,” Arswen said.

Arsral gave Aunt Detion the full story, and in return she gave us the latest news from the Neighbourhood Association of Gossiping Old Ladies. It was actually called that. Apparently someone had declared gossiping old ladies to be the most useless people in the world very loudly in earshot of several of them, and those women had formed the NAGOL in response. The Association, made primarily of middle-aged and elder women, now spanned several towns and was actually the biggest power in the area. They weren’t exactly underground, but to say they were aboveground would be a lie.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

When we’d finished dinner, Aunt Detion clapped me on the shoulder and said “Let me know if the lord’s idiot son gives you young ones any more trouble. The NAGOL have been wanting to do something about him since the start, but this stubborn child,” she tilted her head at Arsral, “has been refusing our help.”

“Oh, um, okay,” I said. “I’ll be sure to do that.”

When she left, I asked Arsral, “If they’re really that powerful and were offering their help, why didn’t you accept?”

Arsral got a far-off look in his eyes.

“I would only wish the full wrath of the NAGOL on my worst enemy,” he said grimly.

“Full wrath? What’s the worst they could do, spread a few bad rumours about Heouie?”

Arsral looked at me for a long moment. “The next town over’s lord would constantly harass women in his employ. One day he went too far. In just one week’s time, he went from a rich lord to an alcoholic beggar in the street. Aunt Detion is the one of the founders of the Association. Even a child could figure out what would happen if I accepted her offer.”

“Oh.” I had nothing to say to that. “...Is it my turn to do the dishes?”

“It’s your turn to do the dishes.”

----------------------------------------

“Hello...”

I took a moment to figure out who it was. “...Senga! You look, uh...”

“Just say it,” she sighed, resting her head on the counter. She obviously hadn’t been bothered to comb her usually bright blue hair today. It was all tangled and dull.

“Like shit,” I finished, wrinkling my nose at the smell of stale alcohol. “You look like shit. And smell bad too.”

“Way to make a girl feel special.”

“You asked for it,” I shrugged. “Drink too much yesterday?”

“Ugh, no kidding,” she said. “I feel like shit. Got any hangover remedies?”

“The Apothecary’s only a few streets further down. It’s cheaper there too.”

“Should you really be recommending your competitors to your customers? That’s a few streets too many.”

“Fair enough. Hangover remedy is aisle 1, shelf...” I took another look at her state. “On second thoughts, I’ll get it for you.”

“Please.”

I quickly got the bottles and got back.

“Here,” I said. “Four bottles. I imagine the rest of your party is in a similar state.”

“Binediem’s never had a hangover in her life, but I’ll take the extra bottle anyways. Here.”

Senga slapped the correct amount on the counter, wincing at the noise, and uncapped one of the bottle to down it all in one go. She sighed in relief as her headache began to abate.

“So, what’s this I hear about you chewing out the lord’s dumb son?”

“Ugh, not you too,” I groaned. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Wish I could’ve been there. From what I heard, it merits its own ballad.”

“What exactly did you hear?”

“That you almost destroyed the shop with your fury and killed a man with just a look.”

“Well, as you can see, the shop is perfectly fine, and while I did kick a few guys around, I didn’t even really hurt them.”

“Did you at least grind a man’s head into the ground?”

“Let me introduce you to Kuro,” I said, picking the creature up and putting it on the counter. Kuro squeaked happily. “It’s cute, fluffy, and survives on mana.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Senga said.

“Look at it,” I said. “Have you ever seen anything as cute?”

“I’ve killed too many deceptively cute and fluffy monsters to still be susceptible to their charms.”

I gasped and clutched my chest. “Oh, Senga, what a dull life you must live. To no longer have your heart moved by a creature as adorable as Kuro.”

I wiped a fake tear away.

“I weep for you, my friend. Here, let Kuro unlock the chains around your heart so that you too, may once again appreciate all creatures fluffy and cute.”

Senga watched the cooing Kuro warily.

“Uh, no thanks. It was just last week that Cottor got mauled trying to pet a rabid squirrel thing.”

“Kuro is no ‘rabid squirrel thing’!”

“Speaking of Cottor, I think I’ve let him and my brother suffer long enough, so I’ll be going now.”

“Let Kuro into your heart! Cuteness is justice!”

“Cuteness is just something monsters use so they can eat you,” she corrected.

“Blasphemy! I will not hear any more of this, fiend.” I shooed her away. “Go, give your friends their medicine. Perhaps they will be able to appreciate the adorableness of Kuro.”

“Yes, yes, I’m going now. I’ll bring Cottor over sometime and you two can bond over all creatures cute and fluffy.”

She waved goodbye over her shoulder. I yelled after her, “Let Kuro into your heart!”