The Retired Abyss Innkeeper-Chapter 47: She Had Concerns. He Had Been There the Whole Time

Chapter 47: She Had Concerns. He Had Been There the Whole Time

She stared at Vassara while she finished coming through the door.

The two behind her moved into position without even glancing around, which told me they’d done this routine in more than a few rooms. They had the same kind of tired they’d come in with. It hadn’t changed. It didn’t look like it changed often.

"My name is Brenne, from the Order of the Unceasing Watch," she said to the room.

Her eyes stayed on Vassara when she did.

"And I have to say, this situation has been a concern of ours since we heard about it."

Vassara stared back at her.

"Good morning," she said.

She said it the way you say it to someone when you’ve already measured the room and decided it is your responsibility.

"We need to be part of this conversation," Brenne said. "A mortal city here, in this kind of—"

"What has your order done in the Abyss?" Vassara asked.

Brenne stopped.

"I’m sorry?"

"Before this," Vassara said. "What work has your order done here. What territory do you hold. What relationships have you maintained. What have you contributed to this region over any period of time that would give you standing to walk in here and call something your concern."

Brenne’s face changed slightly. Very composed.

"Our mandate—"

"You appointed yourselves," Vassara said.

She didn’t even raise her voice.

"That’s the whole answer. You heard about this and decided you should be here, and you arrived, and now you’re here, and you consider that sufficient."

She looked at Brenne steadily.

"The Abyss doesn’t care what you’ve decided about yourself. Neither do I."

"The situation here affects more than your house’s territory."

"Correct," Vassara said. "It affects my house’s territory most immediately, which means I have standing."

She paused.

"What I’d like to understand is what you have."

Brenne said, "The city shouldn’t be here."

"No," Vassara said.

There was a brief pause. Neither of them looked happy about agreeing.

"It arrived without notice into established territory," Brenne continued. "It disrupted arrangements that were functioning, and nobody who caused it has taken responsibility for the result."

"Correct," Vassara said.

Then she looked at Brenne again.

"And what does your order propose to do about my house."

"That isn’t the only—"

"It’s my concern," Vassara said. "You said you were here about the situation. My house is the situation."

She tilted her head slightly.

"So I’m asking."

Brenne’s jaw shifted slightly.

"I understand your house has a grievance—"

"Tell me something I don’t know."

"I’m trying to address—"

"You’re trying to make this about something large enough that you have a place in it," Vassara said.

Her tone stayed level.

"If it’s a territorial matter it’s between my house and this city. If it’s a cosmic matter then your order has standing."

She watched Brenne carefully.

"I know what you’re doing. I want you to know that I know."

The council chair had been sitting there the whole time. Something in his expression had lifted slightly.

"If we could—" he started.

Neither of them looked at him. He looked down at his hands.

I was down at the end of the bench with the kettle.

What I needed was one more cup count before I committed to anything for the afternoon.

The bread had come out fine. That part was a relief. But the second loaf was going to disappear by midmorning at the rate this room was going, which meant starting a third.

Starting a third meant pushing the broth timing.

The broth was already pushed.

And if I pushed it further I was going to have a sequence problem before the first dinner bell.

"Sorry," I said to the two who’d come in behind Brenne. "Did you both want something? Tea’s on."

The taller one looked at me.

"Tea," she said.

"Tea," said the other.

"I’ll bring it over," I said. "Are you eating? There’s stew."

"Please," said the first one.

"Please," said the second one.

They said it almost exactly the same way.

Same flatness behind it. Like a word worn smooth from use.

I wrote it down and moved on.

Meanwhile Brenne continued, "I’m not saying your house doesn’t have a legitimate complaint. I’m saying the legitimate complaint is part of a larger picture, and approaching it only as a property matter misses—"

"Misses what," Vassara said.

"The scope of what this actually is."

"I have the scope perfectly clearly," Vassara said. "My house’s territory. Their city."

She paused briefly.

"I also notice you’ve avoided saying what your order actually wants."

She watched Brenne. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

"You’ve been in this room for minutes and you haven’t said it yet."

Another small pause.

"What I’ve heard is nothing more than self-righteous nonsense."

She looked directly at her.

"What do you want."

"I want—"

"Brenne," I said.

She turned.

I had the board out.

"I should’ve asked when you came in," I said. "Stew’s what I’ve got available now."

I tapped the board.

"The broth’s been going since this morning but I started it late, and the timing’s been moving around on me all day, so I can’t promise anything before afternoon."

I glanced toward the oven.

"I’ve got bread, but the second loaf is nearly done. If I’m starting a third it needs to go in soon, so if you want some I’d say sooner rather than later."

She looked at the board. Then she looked at me.

Then she looked at the kitchen door.

It was just a kitchen door.

The way she studied it suggested she was evaluating a logistical challenge.

"How many are you cooking for?" she asked.

"Sixteen now," I said. "Possibly more. I haven’t confirmed everyone."

She looked back at the board.

"I can help," she said.

"It’s fine," I said. "It’s manageable—"

"I’m a decent hand with a pot," she said. "I’ll help between this."

She gestured vaguely toward Vassara.

"You’ll help with the cooking," Vassara said.

"I’ll help with the cooking and then come back to this."

"You came into this room to represent your order’s position on a matter of serious significance," Vassara said, "and you’ve volunteered for kitchen work. How ridiculously goody two shoes."

"Someone has to."

Vassara snorted.

Brenne turned back to me.

"Bread first," she said. "Show me what needs doing."

Her two took their tea without looking at each other.

I wrote Brenne down for stew, noted the kitchen assist, and updated the board count. Then something tugged on my sleeve.

From below.

I stopped and looked down.

The curiously green, extremely short, extremely well-dressed man from table two had climbed off his chair to reach me.

He was standing there at about hip height.

His expression was patient.

His two associates at the table hadn’t stopped writing.

"Innkeeper," he said. "When you have a moment."

The room heard him. The discussion didn’t stop all at once.

It stopped in sections.

Like a fire running out of things to burn. One voice fading, then another, until the common room was just cups and the scratching sound of two notebooks still moving.

The council chair looked at table two. Then at the two associates. Then at the ledgers that had appeared on that table at some point during the morning.

He had not looked directly at them until now.

Kern looked at him from the east wall. Then at me.

Lenne had stopped writing.

Renner’s pen was still.

Vassara looked at the small man. Her expression didn’t change.

Brenne looked at him. Then she glanced at her entourage.

The taller one looked up at the ceiling.

The small man looked back at the room.

His expression was settled. He’d been at the table since before any of this started. He looked like he’d found the morning useful.

[SYSTEM LOG]

Divine arrival classification updated. Name established: Brenne. Celestial order represented. Common room entry confirmed. Classification entry no longer provisional.

Guest at table two: first direct engagement with inn staff recorded. Prior status: present, passive. Current status: active.

Note appended: guest subject to divine arrival classification volunteered kitchen assistance. Category does not currently exist for this arrangement. Left open.