The Spare's Empire

[lum]

While the mysterious pots remained firmly closed, her father entered.

He was already reading one of his ledgers, spectacles perched low on his nose as he turned a page without even looking where he was going.

Then, somewhat miraculously, when he reached her, he paused just long enough to lean down and kiss the top of her head.

"Good morning, little lady."

"Morning, father."

“Did you sleep well?”

“Sure…”

“Excellent.”

He turned another page. “Hmm…”

Lilium waited.

Nothing. He just kept on reading.

Her gaze shifted.

Cook continued stirring.

Her father took a seat and looked up only briefly at her. “Could you pass me the honey?”

She handed him the little pot without a word.

"Thank you."

He spooned a little into his tea without ever closing the ledger.

Silence.

Lilium waited another few heartbeats.

Still nothing?

She looked from Father...to Cook...to the tied-down pots...and back again.

Then the tiniest smile crept across her face.

Very well then.

If everyone else intended to pretend today was a day like any other…

...then she would pretend it was, too.

"Cook?" she asked in a light-hearted way.

"Mm?"

"May I help with breakfast?"

Cook nearly dropped his spoon. Yet he recovered with remarkable speed.

"... Help?"

"Mhm."

He looked at the three tightly covered pots, then at the girl, then back at the pots.

"I'm afraid...that… ehm…"

His eyes drifted upward, as though inspiration might be hiding somewhere in the rafters.

“... I’m fully staffed today.”

Lilium frowned as she looked around, seeing no one else but Cook, herself and her father.

“Oh.”

Cook nodded. “Yes. But another time, ok?”

She nodded gravely.

Before either could continue, the back door swung open.

Porter stepped inside carrying a wooden crate wrapped so thoroughly in coarse canvas that not a single corner of it remained visible. Thick twine crisscrossed the bundle several times before disappearing beneath an extravagant knot.

He froze in his tracks the moment he noticed Lilium.

“... Oh… hello little miss.”

“Morning, Porter.”

Cook looked up as well, noticing how Lilium looked from Porter to him and back.

Then her gaze dropped to the bundle.

“What is that?”

Porter looked down as though he had only just remembered he was carrying it.

“What is… oh… This?”

“Yes… That.”

He frowned thoughtfully.

"Erhm… This is… Crate."

Lilium blinked.

“I can see that? But what kind of crate?”

Porter shifted it awkwardly beneath one arm.

"The... wooden kind."

Lilium glanced over her shoulder.

Cook however suddenly became extraordinarily interested in stirring his soup. Her father seemed occupied with some math.

Lilium folded her arms. "I've seen wooden crates before. I meant, what’s inside?"

Porter scratched at his beard.

"I've only been instructed..." he hesitated a moment. "...to transport it."

"I see. To where?"

He looked around the kitchen.

Cook stared intensely into his soup, and Master Corvin was lost in the world of numbers.

Porter lowered his voice. "Now I've forgotten…"

"You've forgotten?"

"I had it written down."

"...Where?"

He patted his lower pockets. Then the upper.

His expression grew increasingly theatrical.

Lilium tilted her head. “Let me guess. You lost your note?”

"It would appear so."

Lilium looked from Porter...

...to Cook...

...back to Porter.

Then she smiled the smallest smile.

"Perhaps Father knows."

All the heads turned to Lilium’s father.

Master Corvin slowly finished the line he was reading.

He made one final note in the margin.

Only then did he look over the top of his spectacles, and only then did he notice the people looking at him.

"Hm?"

Porter cleared his throat.

"I appear to have... temporarily misplaced the destination for this crate."

"I see." Corvin regarded the bundle for a thoughtful moment. "Well that’s unfortunate."

"Quite,” Porter nodded.

Another pause.

Lilium waited.

Surely Father would solve it.

Instead, he took a sip of tea.

"Well," he said calmly, "you'd best remember, then."

Porter blinked, "...Yes, sir."

Silence settled over the kitchen once more.

Lilium looked from one man to the other.

Neither seemed remotely concerned that a mysterious crate had apparently lost its destination.

She folded her arms.

"I could read the shipping mark..." she tried.

Porter's eyes widened ever so slightly.