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Fiends For Hire [Anti-Hero Action/Slice of Life] (4,500+ Pages)
V3: Chapter 8 - Courting Death | Part 2.1 - Losing Face

V3: Chapter 8 - Courting Death | Part 2.1 - Losing Face

After getting the bath drawn, Drim quickly retreated from the bathroom. He wanted nothing less than to have a repeat of the same awkward dressing and clothing removal situations from earlier in the day.

It seemed lunch had come around for Phon and Allant as well. Drim didn’t peek into the dining room, but he didn’t have to. He could hear them even with the doors shut on his way to the kitchen since they were that loud.

“You can’t be serious! I refuse to eat this!”

“What do you mean?! I went out of my way to make you a home-cooked meal. You’ll be eating every damned bite.”

“But it’s dirt!”

“You said you wanted something organic. Doesn’t get more organic than that.”

“BUT IT’S DIRT!”

“Dirt from your garden, yes. Are you doubting your landscaper's ability to procure and maintain the finest quality of dirt? Would you prefer dirt from under a leaking porta-potty at a construction site? Because I can make that happen.”

“I don’t care what kind of dirt it is. This isn’t food! It’s inedible!”

“I assure you. This meal was cooked properly and would meet all food-preparation standards. I employed only the best methods in preparing this dish and could even serve it in a multi-plaque restaurant if the customer closed their eyes.”

“But my eyes are wide open. I know what this is, and there’s no way I could trick myself into believing it's something else.”

“Well… that’s not my problem. And you’re not moving from this spot until that entire plate is licked clean.”

“This is outrageous. I’m leaving and! And… and I’m back in my chair.”

There were a few moments of silence and then the scraping sound of silverware against a plate.

“Is this a worm?!”

“A perfectly fried and seasoned worm, yes. It should taste delicious.”

The next thing Drim heard was some gagging noises but he didn’t stick around any longer. He didn’t need to listen to Allant try to force down ‘food’.

The Darquees kitchen was pretty impressive—basically a commercial kitchen used to serve just a small family and their servants. There were a few washed dishes next to the sink, Phon having cleaned up properly after making her meal.

It had been a while since Drim had actually cooked something in a kitchen, not since the brief cooking he did back in their Constead apartment. He’d still cook over a fire when out alone on missions and it was what he was most comfortable with, so he was disappointed when Victori rejected the idea.

Drim clicked on the oven to make sure it did work, at least knowing that he should roast the birds. He made sure to set temperature and timings according to a recipe he looked up. Being able to eyeball whether it was done over a fire was quite different to making sure it was cooked throughout using an oven.

After finding all the needed pans, Drim began the arduous task of prepping the birds. It was probably best that Victori wasn’t around for this part. Someone so sheltered would likely be quite disturbed seeing birds have their heads chopped off and the mess that came from defeathering and pulling out the guts.

He put each now-naked bird in their own pan for further prep. While he knew they’d taste decent enough, Drim wasn’t actually sure what specific species of bird they were. He spent so long staring at monsters that normal animals were the obscure ones to him.

“You’re already in your pajamas?” Drim asked when Victori joined him in the kitchen since it was still early afternoon.

“Well, if I changed back into my usual clothes, then I would actually need help getting into and out of them,” Victori finally admitted. “These are comfortable and mean one less redressing for the day. Plus, you’ll be the only one seeing me, and you don’t care how I’m dressed, right?”

Drim didn’t deign her with an answer, and instead went back to his stirring.

“What are you making? I thought you were roasting those birds?”

“It’s a gravy to make it taste a little better,” Drim explained.

“Where’d you get gravy, though?”

“It’s a pretty simple blend of mushrooms and bird giblets. Oh, and I made some flavorless flour by grinding some grains I magicked up. Should help it thicken. Sadly, this will all be a little bland because we don’t have any salt, but hopefully the herbs we picked will compensate for that.”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“The hell’s a giblet?” Victori asked but then stared over at the remnants on the counter. “Nevermind, I don’t want to know. But, it’s honestly impressive that you can cook like this.” She let that comment sit for a while longer before asking, “Can I help?”

Drim was surprised that she offered at all. Maybe he actually was breaking through that spoiled side of her, or maybe she was just so hungry that she’d do anything to speed things along at this point. “Sure, just keep this stirring so I can check on the birds.”

She did as asked, a bit clumsily at first—splashing some of the gravy until she got a rhythm going. Drim pulled the birds out and basted them in their own juices, making sure to reserve a bit to add to the gravy. Not too much later, the meal was ready to eat.

“So, are you going to serve it to me or what?” Victori was back to being helplessly spoiled as she gazed hungrily at the four uncarved birds on the table.

“Do you want me to cut it up into bits and feed it to you as well?” Drim teased her sarcastically. “Or should I chew it up first and spit it into your mouth like a little hatchling?”

“Haha, very funny,” she drawled as she picked up a knife. Victori prodded the bird a bit before setting it down. “Alright, I’m not petty enough to not admit when I need assistance. Where should I cut?”

“Well, if you want, you can just pull off a leg.”

“How barbaric,” she criticized, yet her eyes lit up a bit at the same time. They carried their amusement as she ripped off the leg and inspected it for a moment before taking a bite. She didn’t comment at all, but her next few ravenous bites were pretty telling.

Once the leg was mostly just bone, she set it down on her plate and asked, “So I can just spoon out some of the stuff on the insides, then?” She helped herself before Drim could give confirmation.

“You’re weird, you know,” Victori stated as she scooped out a healthy portion from each bird. “My servants would lunge if I tried to do anything like this myself. I guess… that makes me the weird one, doesn’t it? I’ve never even served my own food. But I suppose that’s how it’s done in the real world. I’ve honestly never thought about it before, since it’s always been done for me.”

“But you… you don’t treat me like some helpless dolled-up pet. To you, I’m just another person. I won’t say I don’t like being served, but it is a bit refreshing, and weird.”

“Also, I don’t know what your tastes are like, but these berries are wretched.” Each bird had been stuffed with different items foraged from the woods to soak up the fat. One of them had been the berries they’d found. Drim took a bite himself, and even he almost spat it up.

“Yeah, I didn’t know if that one would work or not,” he couldn’t help but laugh slightly at his failure. Victori latched on and the laughing grew until it filled the room. Despite its vile taste, she still tried every berry without complaint, perhaps to see if one would taste better than the other. Everything else, though, she scarfed down, and between the two of them, there wasn’t a morsel left.

◆◆◆

The rest of the afternoon was fairly uneventful. The two of them spent it in Victori’s room while she watched some drama about Nobles. Drim started to wonder if that’s where most of her spoiled behavior originated. Since she was so sheltered, maybe she was just mimicking the actions of those she saw of a similar station. Of course, Drim found it unwatchably boring and spent most of the time on his tablet, but Victori didn’t seem to notice, absorbed as she was.

When it came time for dinner, Phon went to retrieve some actual food for them. Well, the actual food was fast-food, and one would think it inedible by the noble’s reactions. They apparently weren’t ready for that level of grease and struggled to get it down and keep it down. Victori took one sip of her soda before spitting it out, claiming the carbonation to be too spicy and burning her throat, having never had it before. Both went on to say that they’d greatly preferred their lunches.

As recompense for the ‘toxic slop’ they’d been forced to eat, Allant tried to demand that the Drazahs perform a play for their amusement. They were certainly barking up the wrong Fiend tree, since there were other members of the For Hires that would have happily obliged.

Instead, they put on a generic action film—not even one of the recent high budget ones. It was enough to placate the two who had never seen something like it, since it would have been classed as too lowbrow of entertainment for their refined eyes. Allant in particular got really into it, getting up in the middle of the film and trying—poorly, but still trying—to mimic the moves he saw. He gave up, though, when he bashed his hand into a very expensive looking table lamp and knocked it off, smashing against the ground.

“You seriously still get tucked in?” Drim asked as he wrangled with the sheets on top of Victori’s oversized bed.

“Do you not?” she was taken aback by the question. “I guess I’ve never really thought about it since it’s how things have always been. When do people normally stop being tucked in?”

“Uhh, can’t say I know the answer to that. I didn’t exactly have a normal childhood. But, it’s certainly a good bit younger than you are now.”

“Oh…” Victori hid her face under her blanket to hide her embarrassment, but pulled it back a moment later to make a request. “Why don’t you tell me about it? Your childhood I mean. It could be like a bedtime story.”

“And I know bedtime stories are for kids too before you judge me again! But… I don’t really know anything about you, besides you being some famous murderer or something. I’m not tired enough to sleep anyways.”

“I’ll pass, and I know you’re lying about not being tired,” Drim smirked at her. “I bet you’ll fall asleep the moment I turn off the light. So goodnight, Victori.”

“Wait! Where are you going?!” she suddenly panicked when Drim opened the door. “Aren’t you uhh… You’re supposed to be protecting me, right? How can you do that if you’re not here?”

There was no room left for confusion; the girl was scared of being left alone in the dark. Drim had no doubt. She was so used to being in a home abuzz with movement around her, that this calm quiet and isolation must be quite unsettling to her. “Don’t worry, I’ll just be in the next room.”

“That’s… It’s not… I don’t mind you staying in here. You could just sleep on the chaise lounge or something.”

“Remember that rose I gave you?” It was currently sitting on her nightstand. She grabbed it and set it next to her pillow. To add a bit more comfort to the room, Drim placed his hand on the wall and vines spread around the room. Small luminous bulbs sprouted from the vines, dotting the room like stars. They were dim, so they shouldn’t affect sleep, but bright enough to outline the room in the night.

“Goodnight, Victori.” Drim softly closed the door behind him as he left the room.