Page 14 of The Chef

“We own the first two floors,” Fen explained as they both stood in the entryway, dripping water onto the flagstones. “The rest of the building has a separate entrance. This way.”

Fen led the way out of the entry and into a massive common room. Deep, comfortable-looking couches were scattered around the space, many of them circled around the massive fireplace dominating the right-hand wall. There were fewer tables, but they were placed strategically around the couches. The left-hand wall contained a fully stocked bar. Across the room was a long hallway, doorways dotting either side. Fen went all the way to the end where the hall terminated at a closed set of double doors. A staircase going up was to the left, and Fen opened the door on the right to reveal a bedroom.

“This room is currently empty, so you can use it tonight,” Fen explained. “Drop your bag off. There should be a robe hanging in one of the closets. Grab that, and I’ll show you the bathing facility.”

Since Char was shivering and still dripping, that sounded like a marvelous idea. The room had two full beds pushed against opposite walls with two dressers between them underneath the window. Small blanket trunks sat at the foot of each bed, next to which each had an armor and weapons stand. Against the wall on opposite sides of the door were two ceiling-height wardrobes. Char left his bag on the floor, pulled open one of the wardrobe doors, and found a blue robe hanging inside amid a lot of empty hangers. He returned to the hallway in time to see Fen jog down the stairs holding a green robe.

“This way,” he said, going back down the hall until they were at the closed door closest to the common room. The door opened into a changing room with cubbies lining the walls. Each cubby had hooks at the top and a seat with a drawer at the bottom. Fen hung his robe on one hook and pulled his shirt over his head. Char gulped and spun around, picking a random cubby on the other side of the room. He stripped quickly, dragging his sodden, clinging clothes away from his skin, and left them hanging on thehooks to start drying. He quickly donned the robe and turned around to find Fen waiting for him, wrapped in the green robe.

“Is there a separate room for women?” Char asked, wondering about the lack of privacy.

“It’s across the hall. One door down are the water closets, men’s on this side, women’s on the other.” He pushed open the door on the far side of the room, revealing exactly as Char feared: a communal shower area.

Oddly, though, as Char took in the tiled space, he noticed there weren’t any pumps or tubs, just shower heads and spigots. “You have running water?” Char asked, awed. He had heard it existed but had never seen it before.

“The palace was retrofitted about ten years ago. We’re only halfway through with the military complex, but another building is converted every year. Most of the city hasn’t made the transition since it’s expensive and time consuming, but the palace is offering subsidies to help. It’s healthier to bring water into the city from the aquifers, and pump the used water out into the southern ravines, than to have wells in proximity to outhouses. We’ve already reduced the number of cholera outbreaks, which allows the city healers to focus on other, less serious issues, which then continues to improve health overall.” He paused and shrugged sheepishly. “Sorry, convincing the military complex to switch over was a pet project of mine.” His hands went to the belt of his robe, and Char’s cheeks heated, those darned butterflies surging. Fen didn’t appear to be the least bit self-conscious. “Left handle is hot, right is cold. Use them both to find a temperature you like. Soap’s in the pump bottles on the wall.” Fen continued as Char looked away, focusing on his own spigot.

A hook was set into the wall on either side of the handles. Above the handles three bottles hung from brackets, shampoo,conditioner, and soap, according to the labels. Char let out a breath and pulled off his robe, then hung it up. He fiddled with the handles, yelping when he got sprayed by freezing water.

Fen chuckled, and Char accidentally looked over, after which he was glad for the cold as it prevented his body from reacting the way the immediate roaring in Char’s head wanted it to. Fen’s back was to Char, hard muscles outlined by dripping water, drawing the eye down to firm buttocks and long legs. Char refocused his attention on the wall in front of him, turning the knobs until the water warmed to comfortable levels, then luxuriating in the chance to finally feel warm for the first time all afternoon and telling his body to get a grip on reality. He soaped up quickly; the faster he was done with the shower, the faster he was away from a naked Fen.

Char really didn’t know what was wrong with him. He was thinking of Fen the same way he thought of making fresh chicken stock, and never before had he conflated food with sex. Never before had another person distracted him from cooking quite like Fen. His feelings weren’t appropriate, and Char honestly didn’t know what the best thing to do would be. He wasn’t interested in other humans in that way often; he’d had sex before, but all his previous partners had fallen short in comparison to spending time in the kitchen and had eventually left him. Char knew where his thoughts would normally be after being presented with the novelty of running water. So many recipes would be made easier thanks to having it, and the cleanup afterward would take half the time and effort. And yet the image of water dripping down Fen’s skin kept reappearing.

Char rinsed the last of the soap off and turned off the taps, glad to feel clean for the first time since embarking on the journey into the mountains far too many days ago. He was warmed through too. He looked around, carefully not glancingin Fen’s direction, and found a stack of folded towels tucked into a niche next to the door. Char took one and dried off, slipped back into his robe, and gladly returned to the changing room.

“Hey!” Laurence called, smiling at Char from where he was unlacing his boots, sitting in one of the cubbies. “I’m glad someone managed to bring you here. You ought to stay permanently, you know.”

Glad for any distraction that yanked his mind away from Fen, still naked and dripping in the other room, Char focused on Laurence.

“I don’t know how much work you’d have for me here,” Char admitted. “Besides, my cousin has a position waiting for me.”

“Family is important,” Laurence replied with a nod. He dropped his boots into the drawer and stood to take his shirt off. “Anyway, dirty towel drop is that bin,” he pointed to an empty box pushed into a spot on the wall without any cubbies. “The mob of us should be descending on the baths any moment, so you should get out of here before this place gets inundated.”

“Thanks,” Char said. He went to his cubby to retrieve his damp and, quite frankly,dankclothes.

Fen emerged, thankfully robed, as Char was checking he had gotten everything.

“Dinner is going to be delivered to the common area in about an hour,” Fen called to Char as he nodded hello to Laurence and went to his own cubby. “Please come join us. And then seven o’clock in the morning to head over to the palace?”

“That works for me. Thanks.” Char replied. He escaped into the hallway, which was now filled with the boisterous, welcoming noise of the entire company. They called out to him, and Char waved hello in response, but Char wanted to return to the room Fen allotted him where he didn’t have to think fora while. He needed to clear his head, adjust his mental balance back to where it should be, and return exclusively to the world of cooking where he belonged.

A servant was waiting just outside the door, a basket in his hands. “Sir, I made one of the beds and laid out a set of clean clothes for you. If you want to give me anything that needs washing, I’ll have it returned to you first thing in the morning.

“That would be amazing.” Char grinned at him, thankful he wouldn’t be appearing in Terrance’s kitchen smelling like he had just spent weeks in the woods. “We can start with these,” Char continued, indicating his wet clothes. The servant held out the basket and Char deposited everything inside. He went into his room, where his bag had been placed on top of the blanket chest at the end of a bed that was now neatly made with sheets, pillows, and blankets, and started pulling out the rest of his dirty, travel-stained clothes. Everything went into the basket. Char double-checked he hadn’t missed anything and then went over to the other, unmade bed where a set of brown pants and a loose white shirt had been laid out.

“Whose are these?” he asked.

“They’re from the general stock,” the servant replied. “Everyone who lives here is outfitted from there; since you’re living here tonight, you can borrow the clothes while I get yours washed. Let me know if you need anything else,” he added before leaving. Char let out a heavy breath as the servant shut the door behind him.

Char collapsed onto his bed and sighed again. He would get dressed in a moment and head out to the common room to eat, but first he had to clear his mind. Any thoughts of Fen needed to go into a locked box where he could forget about them. Char focused on daydreams of what working in Terrance’s kitchen would be like, wishing that might be enough to banish Fenfrom the forefront of his mind. The palace must serve amazing food, with access to unique ingredients Char had never had the opportunity to work with. Banquets, luxuries, and a chance to work with other high-level chefs. Learning new recipes, new techniques; Char couldn’t wait. He knew it would be amazing, and the morning couldn’t come soon enough.

Chapter Nine

“I WANT TOshow you something.”

Char froze, his face stretched in a yawn, his body only halfway into the hallway as he had been in the process of leaving his room. He snapped his mouth shut, continuing out and closing the door of the very comfortable room behind him, then turned to look at Fen where he was leaning against the banister.

“Show me what?” Char asked. It was six thirty in the morning. If Char were working the morning shift, he would already be up and elbow-deep in bread flour and eggs, but after the last few weeks of hard travel, sleeping in had been a luxury. Sometime in the night his clothes had been returned, neatly stacked in folded piles on the bed he wasn’t using. This morning, he changed into a set of his own clothes, packed everything else away, and was ready to see Terrance.

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