Albury furrowed his brows.
“What do you mean by that? A problem?”
His voice had grown deeper, like the thickening of night. But the innkeeper didn’t seem to notice at all.
She raised her arm, which had been hanging limply by her side, up to her chest and chuckled awkwardly.
“I guess I’m really getting old. I made a mistake I’ve never made before in my life.”
Her arm was wrapped in a coarse bandage.
“I burned myself while cleaning the hearth. My eyes have been getting blurry lately, tsk.”
Albury frowned deeply and leaned in to examine the wound more closely.
“Are you alright? A burn like that will take a while to heal—you should’ve gone to the physician first.”
The innkeeper waved her good hand dismissively.
“Oh, no need for that. You get hurt now and then doing this kind of work. I cooled it under cold water right away. It might blister a little, but it was my own fault, so I’ll just deal with it.”
But the bandage was already soaked with pus, and the stain was spreading.
Albury didn’t hide his worried gaze, which made the innkeeper let out a loud, hearty laugh, almost as if trying to brush it off.
“I just wrapped it up all dramatic-like, that’s all!”
“Still, you should go to the physician right away.”
“Alright, alright.”
Only then did Albury take his eyes off her arm.
“So the small problem you mentioned—this is what it was.”
The innkeeper nodded.
“That’s right. And of all places, it had to be my right arm. I don’t think I’ll be able to prepare dinner tonight. What should I do?”
Her drooping eyebrows seemed to carry the weight of her concern.
She genuinely looked worried about their meal.
The tension that had been coiling tight suddenly felt foolish, and Albury let out a long sigh, as though all the tension had drained from his body.
He ruffled his bangs back with one hand and replied with a bit of exasperation.
“Instead of worrying about that, you should’ve gone to the physician, innkeeper.”
“But…”
“We’re not children, you know? Don’t worry and just go. We’ll either eat out or bring something back.”
Even so, the innkeeper’s concern didn’t ease.
“But the weather’s bad today. I’m sure most places have closed early.”
“We’ll figure it out.”
“Should I bring something back from the market after I see the doctor?”
“We’re not scoundrels who’d let an injured lady carry groceries.”
“Kekeke, being called a lady at my age is a new experience.”
The innkeeper chuckled and nodded as if reassured. Just as she was about to close the door to leave—
“Wait.”
It was Eugenia who had been listening quietly inside, raising her right hand slightly.
Everyone turned their attention to her, and she looked at Enrique as she spoke.
“If it’s alright, may I borrow the kitchen for a bit?”
“The kitchen? Why?”
“I’d like to prepare dinner. It might not satisfy everyone’s tastes, but I can at least make something simple to fill us up.”
No need to go out? That was a tempting offer.
It meant reducing risk, after all.
Enrique and Albury exchanged a quick glance.
Truth be told, they could go without eating a meal—or even several meals. They had been trained for that. Water alone would keep them going for a week.
But the issue was Eugenia and the twins.
What fault did the children bear?
They had a responsibility, as adults, to ensure the kids—who already looked a bit underfed—ate properly.
‘What do kids like to eat?’
Enrique was silently racking his brain over a menu, something he’d never had to do before.
“That’s a wonderful idea!”
The innkeeper jumped in with an enthusiastic voice.
Eugenia smiled bashfully and added in a quieter tone.
“I’d need to use some ingredients. But if that’s alright with you, I think I can manage a simple meal.”
“Of course, of course! Use them all up if you want! If no one eats it, it’ll just spoil anyway—this is great!”
She agreed heartily.
“Then I’ll head straight to the doctor now. I’ll hang up the closed sign on my way out—use the place however you like!”
Even as she turned to leave, she called back to Albury and Enrique.
“Oh, and you two! Don’t you dare just sit there waiting with your spoons. You better help out!”
“Of course.”
The commotion finally died down.
As the door shut, Selmia looked up at Eugenia with sparkling eyes.
“Big sis! We’re eating?!”
Oh dear. Anyone would think they’d been starving the child.
‘We didn’t feed them like kings, but we never starved them either…’
Still, it likely wasn’t enough for a growing child.
Eugenia swallowed her guilt and nodded, putting on a deliberately cheerful tone as she asked:
“Yup. What would you like to eat?”
“I want…!”
Selmia began chattering excitedly without pause.
Sandwiches loaded with ham, French toast soaked in milk and grilled in butter, pancakes, oatmeal cookies with jam.
Selmia rattled off a list of sweets without hesitation or breath.
It was obvious she wouldn’t be able to eat all of it, but just imagining it made her happy.
The girl’s face was dreamy and dazed, like she was lost in a fantasy.
‘Familiar flavors are dangerous things.’
But what Selmia listed was more dessert than meal.
At first, Eugenia listened with a smile, but then she cautiously glanced at her.
‘She should stop soon…’
Yet the girl looked like she had even more things in mind.
“And also…!”
“Sherry, that’s enough.”
Joshua clamped his hand gently over Selmia’s mouth.
Eugenia silently cheered Nice!
Had she gone on a bit longer, they might’ve been in trouble.
So far, Selmia had only mentioned things commoners could eat.
But if she started listing foods that required elaborate prep or expensive ingredients—meals only nobles could enjoy—their identities might be exposed.
‘Even if not exposed, it would raise suspicion.’
If Joshua hadn’t stopped her, it could’ve become a real problem.
The boy calmed his twin sister with practiced ease.
“If you ate all that, your stomach would burst. Pick just one—what do you want the most?”
“Tch… but…”
“Just one.”
“Then… pancakes.”
Selmia pouted but still chose just one.
Still not quite satisfied, she quickly added:
“But with lots of whipped cream on top!”
Joshua smiled and patted her head.
Then, turning to Eugenia, he asked:
“Can you do it, Eugenia?”
“Of course. Leave it to me.”
Eugenia struck a playful pose, flexing her right arm.
The menu was set, and she was just about to stand when Enrique rose before her.
“Let’s get started.”
She looked up at him in surprise, momentarily forgetting to move.
“You can just stay here…”
“The more hands, the faster the food.”
He gave a short reply and stepped past her out the door.
There wasn’t time to stop him, so Eugenia quickly got to her feet.
“Alright, kids. Wait here for a bit—we’ll call you when it’s ready.”
The twins nodded.
Then Joshua mumbled under his breath, a bit grumpy.
“Eugenia. Um… be careful.”
“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll be careful with the fire!”
The boy gave her a look that said that’s not what I meant, but didn’t press further.
With Albury and Enrique already gone, Eugenia hurried downstairs.
But the two men had gone in different directions.
Enrique headed to the kitchen, while Albury was putting on his coat.
“Miss Eugenia. I’m stepping out for a bit. Regarding that… ID issue we mentioned earlier.”
You know what I mean, right? He gave her a wink.
“Yes, take care.”
He promised to return soon and left the inn.
After seeing him off, Eugenia peeked into the kitchen and cautiously asked:
“Sir Enrique… you’re really going to help?”
But Enrique just glanced at her with an expression that said, Is this even a question? and tied an apron around his waist.
“You heard what the innkeeper said—gotta earn our keep.”
“But I really don’t mind doing it alone…”
“I don’t mind either. So go ahead and work me hard.”
He rolled up both sleeves, revealing forearms taut with muscle and veins.
‘Whoa…’
Eugenia stared at him, momentarily dazed.
A strong man in an apron.
It didn’t seem like a natural combination in her head, but in reality, it worked.
In fact, his rugged aura only seemed to intensify, radiating raw, commanding presence.
