The Slime Farmer - 91 Renegotiation

Even dressed more ‘casually’ than any of the patrons on the upper floors, it appeared the staff recognized Sarel and the service was fast.

Defi raised his theory of Sarel owning the place higher by a few points in estimation.

The private room Sarel entered was large, light and airy in décor. It looked like a room for a large party. There were two tables, one within the confines of the room and one on the pavilion attached to the room.

“There is a balcony?” Vesia trotted toward the space that was open on three sides. The sight appeared to have restored the natural cheerfulness suppressed by unexpectedly being in the company of her ultimate superior.

“Most of the private rooms here have one,” Sarel followed the excited clerk. “This is one of the better views.”

The land under the city rose to a series of small hills no larger than bumps in the middle, which meant the city center was raised slightly and sloped down toward the waters of the river. The rose-colored city walls, a fair sight in the mid-day sunlight, were visible from every part of the city.

From the balcony of the foodhall which was built on the slight rise of the land, the viewer had a sweeping look at the city of Ecthys. The walls curved around, and the citadel rose imposingly on the far right of the view.

Watersiders was built not on the docks but on an artificial water channel that reached toward the city center, and the road that paralleled the water channel was festooned with gardens visible from the upper floors.

No wonder the place was popular.

With a location like this, people would come simply for the view.

Many buildings in the city had pavilions and open spaces on the upper floors. It was not the same as the architecture in Rimet. But similar enough that Defi suppressed a pang of homesickness.

The servers started laying the food out on the balcony table.

“My lady, mestre and miss, today we offer pear-and-wine-roasted duck stuffed with pepper rice, and herbed lamb stew with sour plums and onions. The chestnut soup is particularly popular this season, and our greens are especially grown in our own gardens.”

Sarel nodded, and the head server smiled in satisfaction. He waved to the others and withdrew.

Curiously, they set out all the seven courses together. Defi had thought Ascharonians preferred bringing out the courses a bit at a time, in ritualized dramatics, to ensure freshness of course. He might have thought he was too used to Marmocha’s style of unveiling food, but the little he saw of the tables on the floor below also served a few courses at a time in such manner.

He glanced at Sarel. “Preservation emblems on the serving platters?”

“The food won’t be as good if it sits too long,” Sarel agreed, as she pulled open a panel on the wall to reveal a good collection of wine. “So eat already.”

Defi glanced at Vesia, then sat without ceremony and put Turq down on the seat beside him. He started ladling out the soup silently. He was still the youngest in the room. Vesia sat as well, though more hesitantly.

There were no servers, no other people in the room. Was that the point of laying out all the food at once? The arrangement lessened the chances of people eavesdropping.

The staff looked like they were used to serving like this, so Defi cemented his theory of Sarel being at least part owner or patron of the place.

He put it out of his mind with one spoonful of the soup.

It was delicious.

He barely heard Vesia’s exclamation of delight, barely noticed Sarel pouring wine. His hunger made itself known vehemently after one mouthful of flavor spread across his tongue.

Thankfully, the others were similarly taken enough with the dishes that the meal contentedly passed in near silence.

It was an hour and a half later, the three sipping cups of hot tea to accompany the last of the tiny crunchy bread-cakes, that Defi spoke. “The river here is not as calm as it looks like from the air.”

Sarel’s lips curled up at the edges. “Not as pretty as you expected?”

“I’m surprised there are so many boats still able to sail on it.” He placed some more of the meal’s leftovers on Turq’s plate.

The eldest of them rolled her eyes, her posture like a lounging lazy cat. “You should visit during storm season.”

Vesia looked from one to the other, stared at Defi incredulously for a moment, then quickly pretended to concentrate on her tea while listening avidly. It’s not everyday that she heard someone not even in their twenties so casually open to re-negotiate a previous agreement with the actual noble owner of the company.

“I would not know the correct tack to take.” Defi murmured the words into his cup, his attention seemingly on Turq, patting the slime on top.

“Don’t be tedious.”

Defi smirked at her, eyes sweeping up. “No ink has been shed so far.”

Sarel made a sound that was almost laughter. “Can you change the weather?”

Defi’s expression didn’t change. “I hear there’s an Emblem for that.”

“Is there? It must be expensive.”

Vesia pulled the plate of crunchy bread-cakes closer to her, carefully selecting one that had a bit more sweet powder on it than the rest.

“How complicated could it be to make just a nudge here and there. Isn’t the weather fickle?”

A curve formed on her lips, nearly as smug a smirk as he had. “If you say so. I’m sure there’s something we can do about it.”

Defi shrugged. The workings of the company itself were not his business; he just wanted more control over the extracts he sent to Bluzand. There were several ideas that popped up when exploring the company.

Sarel put down her cup. “Vesia will be in charge of your collaboration with the company. You will have to coordinate with her.”

Vesia froze, teacup halfway to her lips. She put it down slowly. “Uh, my lady, junior clerks don’t handle client accounts, much less those for supply partners.”

Sarel waved her protest away. “You’ll be promoted, of course. It’s just the one account anyway.”

“That’s…”

Sarel eyed her, stern. “Can you manage it?”

“Yes! Of course! But I don’t have much experience…”

“I don’t mind.” Defi put in. “Currently, there’s only the vinegars anyway.”

“Vinegar?” Vesia thought through all the current vinegars of Bluzand. The newest product was…her eyes widened. There was only one vinegar series that had not been announced to the public yet. “You don’t mean the new crystal vinegars? Those are yours!”

Sarel laughed a little. “Is that what they’re called now? It’s a far cry from ‘slime sauce’, in any case.”

“I was joking that time.” Defi sent her an aggrieved look. He turned to Vesia, who was still staring at him. “If you mean the clear vinegars, then yes I made them.”

“They’re poised to be some of the most popular new unveilings next spring,” Vesia said blankly. Then she realized her position. “The crystal vinegars…my account? No that’s…isn’t it…”

A look of determination crossed her face, and she straightened. “I’ll do my best!”

“That’s what I want to hear.” Sarel smiled like a satisfied shark. “We’ll take care of the particulars today. I’d like Defi to have a Tesorium account before we leave tomorrow.”

“I’ll take care of it, my lady.” Vesia nodded, turned her attention to Defi. “If there is anything you want to know about the company, mestre, do not hesitate to ask.”

Defi nodded, raised his teacup to Sarel.

The hermit had, with this move, hit two bucks with a single spear.

The problem of Vesia knowing too much was neatly handled by the show of trust. And with his partnership being managed by a newly promoted clerk, who would think Defi or his business was that important to the company?

Defi already knew that the thicker vinegar would sell well, but from the clerk’s words, the other lighter vinegars would be marketed as highlights of the next product lines. Possibly as novelties. He had never seen clear vinegar himself after all.

It was still surprising.

With Sarel as the owner of the company, shouldn’t they have better products than haphazardly-discovered vinegar? She was a master chef after all. Creating more spice-mixes would be simple.

“We don’t sell a lot of mystic spices,” was the answer when he asked. “Too volatile.”

Vesia agreed enthusiastically. “We bring quality flavors to everyone, no matter who they are. Who says the best food can only be eaten by people who can afford mystic ingredients? Common spices were never so popular before Bluzand started putting out recipe books that used little to no mystic spices. Better food, lower prices.”

The last was said so fervently that is sounded like the mantra for a religious movement. Considering the Ascharonian worship of food, it may well be, Defi thought to himself in amusement.

“I don’t imagine it was easy.” He reached out to refill his tea.

Sarel smirked. “There were so many ‘professional’ articles about food that came out when Bluzand unveiled their first products.”

Vesia huffed. “As if making common dishes more appealing was cutting into their profits. Mystic cooking and delicious food are not always the same thing, don’t they know?”

Sarel’s grin widened. “I like you.”

Vesia beamed. “I’m happy you think so, my lady. You’ve always been an inspiration to me and my friends.”

Defi’s brow twitched involuntarily. Somehow, he felt a looming doom at those words.