FHC B2 Chapter32: New Village New Smells (Patreon)

It took me about five minutes from walking away to remember I still had silver coins from Maro.

Huh, I guess I never really went shopping that day. I wonder if the currency is the same.

I pulled out the small sack and picked out a single silver coin, comparing the coin from Maro to the ones Devon handed me.

They had different minting, but the coin weighed around the same, and the material looked identical. In the worst-case scenario, I saved Maro's silver for another day.

Approaching the village, I inspected the walls. They were… barely able to be considered walls. More like a tall fence with wild grass on the side, the exterior of the village did not paint a good look for what was inside.

Two guards stared from near the entrance, and the older gentleman became bug-eyed. He tapped the younger guardsman beside him with his spear and stood up straight.

I smiled and waved, lowering my hood. "Hello, am I free to enter the village?"

"Yes, sir Grimm! It'd be an honor to have you. May I ask… if there's, uh…" the older guard said.

"We're just stopping for tonight. We'll be heading out with the caravan."

A look of pure relief crossed the guardsman's face. The younger guard stared nervously but didn't seem to show fear. From the glances he kept giving the older guard, I assumed he was surprised by the man's unusual reaction more than anything.

"I see. Thank you for answering my questions. Please, enjoy your stay in the village."

I nodded and walked past, stopping as I crossed through the fence entrance. "There are two more Grimms behind me. Just a heads up."

The slowly relaxing guard stood straight once more, and I turned away and continued.

Alice shouldn't scare them with Haldeena pestering her. Devon, on the other hand… Eh they'll be fine.

Buildings inside the village were just as I imagined them. The quality was certainly lacking, and almost none sported paint of any kind. A few needed repairs along their roofs, but other than that, it all seemed peaceful.

There was only a smattering of people out and about, and more than a few had gathered to stare at the caravan parked near the outer walls. A few of the older generation seemed to recognize my red cloak and dipped their heads, averting my gaze.

It brought a sigh, but I kept it in and moved past, enjoying the relatively clean and plain town. The smells were intense, new, and varied. I let the most robust smell of meat draw me forward, guiding my feet as I turned a corner and came to a stop in front of a larger building.

It smelled like roast beef, along with a fantastic blend of fresh herbs and spices.

My mouth watered as I stood at its entrance.

The door was closed, but I saw an open sign hanging off a small peg. Taking that as acceptable proof I could enter, I gently swung the door open and stepped inside. Outside, the smell was intense; inside, the starving beast inside my gut demanded immediate satiation.

Composing myself, I approached the unmanned counter and waited. There wasn't a bell, so I contented myself by closing my eyes and forcing the hunger back into its cage.

There was a loud crash of something metal on metal, followed by a grunt. Opening my eyes, I watched as a flour-covered figure came into view, carrying divine-smelling pies. She looked young, with messy brown hair tied up in a bun and her face marred with streaks of flour. Her outfit was simple: light-brown clothes with a stained white apron.

She had her face covered by a stack of meat pies, and when she set them down in front of me, I nearly groaned.

Oh, that's unfair.

They smelled really good.

"Hopefully, that's the last batch, and I can finally eat some breakfast. Damn you, Father. Leaving me alone while you go racing to the capital," the woman muttered to herself.

She wiped her hands on her apron and sighed before cracking her neck. When she turned my way, she skipped over me before snapping her head onto my position. She let out a silent scream and then closed her jaw.

Before I could say anything, she dipped below the counter, and I stared at the spot she had been in.

Uhm…

From around the corner, she reappeared and put on a tight smile. "H-hello. I'm sorry for not seeing you there. Usually, a customer calls out my name."

"Yeah… sorry about that. You sounded busy, and the food smelled amazing, so it was nice to relax for a bit," I replied, returning the smile.

She cleared her throat. "My name's Ulyss. Don't think I've ever seen your face around here."

I searched her face, ignoring the streaks of white powder, and took in her soft green eyes. She was pretty, and the eyes were a surprise. Besides my own, I hadn't seen anyone else with green irises.

"Yeah, we just arrived. I figured I'd explore the town, and the smell of those meat pies drew me here. Sorry for surprising you."

I noticed her keenly focusing on my eyes and then shifted towards my bangs.

"It's not a problem," she muttered. "Sorry, but are you from the Icholus continent?"

"Icholus?"

She seemed crestfallen, like I failed some kind of test.

"Ah, never mind. Sorry."

I raised my hands. "Do I look like I'm from there?"

"Well, no, not really. It's just your eyes. It's rare to see anyone with green eyes; usually, they're soft green. Yours are… nobles from Icholus have that color, so I thought I would ask." She frowned and leaned closer. "Though you have weird flecks in your eyes… it's rather pretty…"

I tried not to blink but felt awkward with the flour-stained woman's face so close to mine. Her eyes overtook my vision, and I coughed politely.

She blinked and finally realized what she had done as she backed away, her cheeks turning pink. "I'm sorry!"

"It's not a problem," I laughed. "And no, I'm not from Icholus, though I know where to visit now, so thank you."

She nodded. "N-no problem."

I stared at the meat pies and deeply inhaled, grinning wide. I turned to look, and she was staring again, but this time at my mouth.

Wha-oh. Fangs, right.

"Did you make all these?"

She shook herself free and turned to stare at the pies while glancing over. "Yes. Family recipe. My father's been making them since he was a young boy when his mother taught him."

There was pride in her voice, like a sense of accomplishment.

She has a right to be proud if they taste as good as they smell.

"Could I make an order?"

"Oh… uhm," she looked to her kitchen and then toward the pie before drooping her shoulders. "Yes, but it might take me a bit, but I can whip some up. They're… five coppers, though."

Her demeanor shifted to hesitant once she mentioned the price, but it honestly didn't tell me much.

My only reference was the meal we paid for at the inn in the last village; beyond that, I had plenty of silver coins to pay for it.

Though… that seems rather expensive? They're huge pies, though.

"That's fine? Do you take silver?"

Her eyes bugged out. "How many do you want?"

I shrugged. "Well, two for myself, one for Devon… one for Alice. I think Yadalee might like some and maybe a couple more to eat later?"

Her jaw slipped open again. She split her attention between gaping at me and the pies on the counter. Eventually, she collected herself. "Right. Are you sure you're not nobility?"

"I'm pretty sure."

"Give me a moment to run these around town. Then I'll come back and start making them…" she sighed. "I'm not used to doing large orders unexpectedly, but I can handle it. Let's say eight pies?"

I did a quick mental count and then shook my head. "Can you do ten?"

I think her eye just twitched.

"I can. Are you sure? That's a lot of copper."

I pulled out two of the silver coins from Devon and slid them over the counter. "This fair enough compensation for the last-minute order?"

She looked at me like I was even more of an alien. Hesitantly, she took the money and deposited it in a pocket somewhere on person.

"This will take me about an hour."

"Sounds good,"

After conversing a little longer, I said goodbye and watched her load up the pies on a small cart with wheels that she pushed by hand. She disappeared off into the village, and I walked away whistling.

Mission successful. Managed to buy something, at least. I wonder if the village has a market.