"Emma, I've got food to eat at the weaving workshop," Gaba said softly, her large hand gently ruffling her sister's hair. A pang of tenderness tugged at her heart as she looked at Emma's frail form. "You're stuck here at home, and you can't move easily. Don't save things for me."
Gurgle…
An awkward moment unfolded as Gaba's stomach let out a loud, rumbling growl, mirroring Emma's earlier hunger pang. The two sisters locked eyes, Gaba's cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
"Hee hee… Sister, you're hungry too," Emma teased, covering her mouth with a delicate hand as a soft giggle escaped.
"I'll eat the steamed bun. You take this," Gaba said, scratching her cheek sheepishly. She handed the paper bag to Emma, biting into the half-eaten bun from yesterday. With a quick stretch, she stood, her towering frame filling the small room. "I'm going to cook dinner."
"Another steamed bun, Sister?" Emma asked, swallowing hard as she eyed the paper bag. Her mouth watered at the thought. Steamed buns were a rare treat, far tastier than their usual barley porridge but less practical for their beast-kin appetites, which demanded hearty portions. A single bun, while delicious, was a small luxury compared to the economical porridge.
"Not a bun—meat buns," Gaba called back from the kitchen, winking playfully over her shoulder as she chewed her bun. The faint clatter of pots filled the air as she began preparing their meal.
"Meat buns?" Emma froze, her brown eyes wide as she stared at the paper bag. The memory of the savory, juicy meat bun they'd shared weeks ago flooded her senses—the rich aroma, the tender filling, the way it had warmed her from the inside out. Her mouth watered uncontrollably. She opened the bag with trembling fingers, careful not to tear it, and gasped. Two meat buns nestled inside, one more than last time.
"Sister, what happened? Why meat buns?" Emma called out, clutching one bun as confusion knitted her brow. "Last time you got a bonus copper coin and bought just one to share. Why two now?"
The memory of that single bun, split between them, lingered in her mind. They'd savored every bite, the rare treat a symbol of Gaba's hard-earned reward.
Gaba poked her head out of the kitchen, her chestnut hair falling loosely over her shoulder. "Because I'm weaving faster these days," She said with a grin. "Keep it up, and I'll be churning out bolts even quicker."
Emma blinked, then smiled softly, her heart warming. She knew her sister too well—Gaba was making excuses to spoil her. The meat buns weren't just about weaving faster; they were a gift, a small act of love to brighten her day.
"What are you 'ah'-ing about? Eat the buns before they get cold!" Gaba called, her voice carrying a mock sternness as she placed a ceramic pot on the fire, adding wheat grains and water with practiced ease.
"Okay," Emma replied, her voice as soft as a whisper. But instead of eating, she carefully tucked the buns back into the paper bag, sealing it tightly and slipping it under the blanket to keep them warm. She wanted to wait for Gaba so they could eat together, just as they always shared everything.
Their rented two-person room was modest, a single space without a proper living or dining area. The kitchen and bathroom were the only separated spaces, the rest a cozy, if cramped, haven. Gaba glanced at Emma from the kitchen, her sister's slight figure perched on the bed. A sigh escaped her lips. She knew Emma's stubbornness matched her own; no amount of urging would make her eat alone.
She's gotten thinner lately, Gaba thought, her brow furrowing with concern. I need to make sure she's eating enough. Her protective instincts flared as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small coin pouch. She counted the copper coins carefully, her calloused fingers brushing against the cool metal. "One, two, three… seventeen."
Seventeen coins, she calculated silently. Plus the fifty we've saved at home. Payday's coming soon. We can afford a proper meal tonight. The thought of Emma's frail frame spurred her decision. "Tonight, we're eating meat."
Gaba's savings weren't for grand dreams like buying a house—that was a distant goal, nearly impossible with their beast-kin appetites and modest wages. Instead, she hoarded coins for Emma's books. Her sister loved reading, especially that tattered romance novel, The Noble Lady's Love. Gaba didn't understand the appeal of such stories, but Emma's eyes lit up with every page, and that was enough. Books were a luxury in this era, hand-copied by scribes and priced in silver coins. Even cheaper, error-ridden commoner editions cost dozens of coppers.
As for a house, Gaba was content with their rental. Compared to their past, when they'd fled from place to place, hiding from danger and scavenging for scraps, this simple room was a paradise. We're safe here, she thought, gratitude warming her chest. Sedona City gave us a home.
She pushed open the kitchen window, brushing away a layer of snow from a wooden box hanging outside. The cold bit at her fingers as she scraped off the frost and brought the box to the fire. Warming it gently, she melted the ice sealing the edges and opened it to reveal a palm-sized piece of wild boar meat—a rare purchase from last month's wages. They'd stretched it across five meals, and this would be the sixth.
Three portions or two? Gaba hesitated, her ceramic knife hovering. Emma's thin frame flashed in her mind, and she made up her mind. Two portions. Payday's close enough. She softened the frozen meat by the fire, then sliced it with effort, the blade scraping against the tough texture.
In Sedona City, farming tools were either plain ceramic knives or ones with small iron shards embedded in the blade for extra durability. Gaba's was the simpler kind, but it did the job. "Half the meat, plus the buns—this is a feast," She said to herself, smiling as she stored the remaining meat back in the box and hung it outside to freeze.
Bubble, bubble…
The barley porridge in the ceramic pot began to simmer, the rich, nutty aroma filling the kitchen. Gaba lifted the lid, setting it aside, and inhaled deeply, her hunger intensifying. "Chop the meat, chop the meat," She muttered, sharpening the knife against a rough corner of the wall before washing it clean. She diced the boar meat into small chunks and tossed them into the pot.
"A pinch of salt," She said, grabbing a small sack and scooping out half a spoonful with a wooden spoon. She stirred the porridge, the meat and grains blending into a hearty mixture that promised warmth and comfort. Cooking porridge was one of Gaba's small joys, a ritual that grounded her and filled her with a quiet sense of home.
"Done!" She announced, ladling the steaming porridge into two large ceramic bowls—more like shallow plates, given their size. She carried them out of the kitchen, the savory scent trailing behind her.
"It smells amazing, Sister! Did you put meat in it?" Emma asked, her nose twitching as she caught the rich aroma.
"Had to use it up before it spoils," Gaba replied with a smile. She set the bowls on a small wooden table she dragged from the corner and placed on the bed—their makeshift dining table.
"This is too much!" Emma exclaimed, her eyes wide at the sight of the meat-filled porridge and the memory of the waiting buns. "Meat buns and meat porridge?"
"What's the big deal? Life's about enjoying the moment," Gaba said with a hearty laugh. Compared to their days of gnawing on tree roots during their desperate escapes, this meal felt like a banquet.
.
.
.
.
You can read advance chapters and view R-18 images of the characters on pat reon page.
pat reon.com/GreenBlue17
300 Power Stones for 1 extra chapter.
5 New reviews for 1 extra chapter.