“Katie, you’re a genius.” Chef Andrew Grosser held up a leaf of paper with my latest recipe on it and smiled brightly. The lizardkin was one of the few minions of the Dark Enchanted Forest who’d passed a trades test and emigrated to North Sumbria.

The Trickster’s Scarf did its job well, even if wearing it in this hot weather was unbearable. My fox tail flicked twice in amusement. “Thank you, Andrew. It takes one to know one.”

He waved off my compliment and read the paper one more time before spitting fire to it and watching it burn. He looked up at me with a teasing smile, “Same terms?”

I nodded, “Three months, to the date. Please and thank you.”

The lizardkin caught my hand and bowed, kissing the air above it gently. He was a tease. “Of course. Any chance you are sticking around until after the festival? I’d love to buy you for a drink.”

“Sorry, lizardboy,” I withdrew my hand and waved. “You know you’re not my type.”

“A lizardman can dream.” He sighed, but didn’t let my repeated rejections get him down. “See you next time.”

I bid the lizardman farewell and he slipped back into the palace kitchen. He was only one of many I’d been passing recipes from my world off to, made easier when I could change my appearance.

It started when I had a craving for cinnamon buns. I made myself a batch and then I packaged one up and left it and the recipe at a bakery I loved in Servalt.

At the bottom of the recipe, I said that if the baker wanted to sell cinnamon buns, they just needed to wait one month from the date I delivered the recipe. I did the same with Ramen and soft serve ice cream and medallion cut ratatouille.

When I send out recipes, I require a delay. If the recipient revealed the letter or tried to the release the item early, then I refused to do business with them.

They, of course, regret it. Mostly because word got around fast and people are excited to try specialty items.

There was something amazing about good food that surpassed everything. I wasn’t claiming these were my recipes, but they were my favourite foods and I was determined to taste them in the wild…. Even if I had to introduce them to the wild myself.

Now I was able to venture into restaurants with all manner of flying pork cutlet ramen, or mini-powdered donuts full of markle berry jam and cream uni-goat cheese.

The latest creation was flatbed pizza.

I was in heaven.

The second place I stopped by on my hour tour was the third floor of the east wing. A location that perfectly overlooked the dais in the Sanctuary, and where I estimated a very excitable assassin jumped from to land through the beautiful stained glass window of a moon.

Still in disguise, I took a deep breath and then pulled out a flower pot from my hero’s storage ring.

With care, I placed the somnia vale blossoms on the ledge and then walked out as fast as I possibly could. The hallway had a door to either side, which meant that anyone who walked in wouldn’t be leaving.

They could be retrieved later, asleep in the hallway.

At that point, I ducked into a washroom and took off my scarf, changing back into Gerda the Bridge Troll. I adjusted my outfit in the mirror and then headed for the garden green that circled the Sanctuary on three sides.

I kind of wanted the elevator. If for no other reason than how funny it would be to have one.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“Excuse me!” I called out to a guard escorting wedding goer’s on their rounds. Three others were enjoying a walk, a pink pixie, an elder fae with antlers and a staff, and a mouse wearing squire attire. The first two were chatting amongst themselves, while the mouse was off on his own, searching in hard to reach places.

The guard, a tall red bearded human, turned my way. “Yes, miss?”

“I think I found something?” I waved at the place that should have some form of vine trap. In my fortelling, magical vines sprouted from this area and trapped everyone inside as it encircled the building from the outside.

It was bramblebriar, a rare magical vine that was immune to magical damage and could only be cut with a faeblade. There were fae at the wedding, so it wasn’t foolproof, but it had managed to slow down everyone’s escape.

“One moment, please.” The guard pulled out a crystal. “Captain, I think we’ve found something. East side.”

A few minutes laters, shadows roiled from the bushes and a Shadow John appeared. The man looked like he was the real one, but I knew how to tell. Shadow John didn’t have a shadow, meaning was one of his shadow clones.

“Miss Gerda.” Shadow John raised one eyebrow at me, and I returned the look with a smile.

“Lord Johnathon.” He hesitated for a mere instant, and I waved my hand at the general area where a trap should be.

I didn’t actually know. I had zero trap finding skills.

The real rogue class carefully pulled aside some mulberry bushes that were growing close to the walls underneath the specific stained glass window that should soon be destroyed, and the man’s eyes suddenly turned black. Pools of mist leaked out the sides in some horror-film anime power of darkness vibe, and I waited patiently for his abilities to scan the area.

Not at the bushes we were standing in front of, but about two feet to the left, he pointed. “Found it. [Shadow Hand].”

What I thought was going to look like [Mage Hand], looked instead like shadow tentacles, as black tendrils shot out of John’s finger and encircled something hidden by the wall. He lifted it into the air and brought it closer. A small sac landed in his palm.

“What is it?” The guard asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

In a bold move, John upended the sac’s contents onto his palm. Three bramblebriar seeds tumbled out.

“Well done.” The words were slow. “We will add one trap to your tally.”

“Stick around.” I half-joked, and walked towards the front entry of the Sanctuary.

I saw Master Thomas of Servalt leaving, and it wouldn’t be too long waiting.

“I think I will.” There was amusement in the shadow man’s voice. Unexpectedly, Shadow John followed, standing beside me as I waited for whoever was currently inside to finish finding traps. Or laying traps, who knew.

I shrugged, “You can come in and watch me work, if it will make you feel better.”

I held my breath.

“I think I will.”

A simple nod. Perfect. Internally, I resisted the urge to smile a broad, evil smile.

“Miss Gerda.” Their Royal Highness peeked outside the double doors. “I’m finished, but it’s just you and the Duchess left, so if you don’t mind I will remain inside.”

“Of course, Your Royal Highness.” I curtsied eloquently and flashed a toothy grin at the lovable fox. Their Royal Highness was one of my favorite characters in the entire game. I silently thanked Knight Commander Bastian for listening to my warnings and saving the fox monarch from their untimely death.

Rowen ushered me inside, followed closely by a now real John who cast a real shadow.

The Sanctuary was just as it appeared in my vision. I walked up to the third pew from the end on the left and pointed at the back leg. “Here.”

Then I pointed at a triangular stone in the pew on the fifth row on the right. “Here.”

“Here.” I walked over and pointed at the tassel tie holding back the curtains that would otherwise cover a stained glass window covered in stars. Then I pointed at the swirl of an arm rest at the end of a bench two rows up from the curtain. “Here.”

From one end of the hall to the next, I pointed at every place I could remoted recall having some form of pit trap, firewall, wolfsbane poison, plant attack, paralyzing electrical shock, magical cage, more wolfsbane, and another bramblebriar sac (this one inside, tucked in the crack of the western wall).

Not all of the traps were still there. Their Royal Highness had discovered the pit trap on the dais only moments before, as they happily let me know. John did all of the actual work of identifying and disarming each of the traps I pointed out - to my relief - and I finished at the front of the hall with eighteen traps total for my tally.

But I wasn’t finished. I stood in front of the dais where Julia was supposed to stand and I closed my eyes, remembering the taste of poison on my skin and the sound of outraged screams in my ears.

I stood there for a few minutes, longer than my time allowed, but no one bothered me. At last I opened my eyes and snapped my hand out pulling a dagger from my storage and throwing it across the room.

Cold mithril touched my throat as John reacted to me drawing a weapon in the Sanctuary.

My own blade cut the candlestick on the table set aside for the signing of the marriage license. A poof of smoke erupted from the candle and an assassin appeared, bow and arrow drawn.

They were dispatched accordingly.

Phew. That should be the last one.

Probably.