The sun hadn't risen yet, but the scent of boiled bones and wet ash already choked the air.
I stood over the hearth, face slick with sweat, stirring a pot so violently that the broth almost sloshed out. My arm throbbed from the motion. My shirt stuck to my back. And Maela was watching me like a hawk watches a squirrel with a limp.
"Faster," she barked. "You stir like you're wooing the soup."
"Maybe I am. Never met a stew that appreciated a gentle hand."
She didn't laugh, but her lips twitched. I called that a win.
My system pinged softly.
[Task Assigned: Stirring Duty]
Objective: Maintain consistent stirring of Bone Broth for 45 minutes.
Reward: +1 Endurance / +Favor (Maela)
Oh come on. That's the reward? Not even a break?
The minutes crawled. My arm was halfway numb when someone burst into the kitchen.
"Clear the path! She's coming!"
The kitchen fell silent. Everyone stiffened.
She?
A girl stepped through the doorway—not a servant. Not dressed like one, anyway. Her boots clicked like they'd never touched mud. Her cloak shimmered faintly with stitched-in gold. She moved like the floor belonged to her.
She was young. Maybe fifteen. Blonde hair braided tightly behind her head. Her chin was raised like she'd been trained to look down on people, and she carried it with the ease of someone who never doubted her place.
A noble.
She wrinkled her nose. "Why does it smell like burnt hair in here?"
"It's the firewood, Lady Livia," Maela said, bowing slightly. "Wet logs don't catch clean."
So this was Lady Livia. One of the noble daughters.
She glanced around the kitchen, eyes skimming over most of us—until they landed on me. Still stirring. Still smirking slightly.
"You. What's your name?"
I paused for half a second too long.
"Reed, my lady," I said, bowing slightly with the ladle still in my hand.
She stepped closer. Her eyes narrowed. "You're the one who collapsed last week. The one who went limp in the courtyard."
Great. The noble grapevine is faster than the system.
"Yes, my lady. But I'm feeling better. The stew helps."
Another twitch at the edge of Maela's lips.
Lady Livia tilted her head, studying me like I was an insect she hadn't decided to crush yet. "You stir well. Oddly well."
"Spent a lot of time with soups."
"What were you before this?"
"Dead," I said simply.
Silence.
Maela choked.
Livia blinked. Then… she laughed.
Actually laughed.
"You're strange. I like strange. Stir faster."
She turned and left, the gold thread of her cloak catching in the firelight.
My system pinged.
[New Variable Detected: Lady Livia's Interest +1]
[Task Progress: Stirring Duty 100% Complete]
[Endurance increased to 3.]
Well. That could've gone worse.
After the excitement died, I went to haul water from the back well. Tarn was there, sitting on an overturned bucket, watching the sky like it owed him money.
"You met the gold girl, huh?"
I nodded, dropping the bucket into the well.
"Be careful. Nobles don't like being laughed at, even if they laugh first."
"She didn't hate it."
"Doesn't mean she won't later."
He stood, his knees cracking like old wood. "You're playing a dangerous game, Reed."
I'm not playing. I'm surviving.
Later that morning, I helped a blindfolded kitchen girl find a missing spoon by clapping in rhythm while she moved toward the sound. I don't know why it worked. It just did. She laughed. The other girls laughed. Even Maela pretended she didn't see it.
[Hidden Interaction Unlocked: Morale Boost +1 (Kitchen Staff)]
Then I got caught drawing a smiley face in the soot on Bran's office door. I played dumb. He didn't believe me. But I scrubbed the whole wall and left a tiny second smiley inside the hearth bricks. Petty? Yes. Worth it? Also yes.
[Micro-Rebellion: +1 Humor (Hidden Stat)]
By midday, I helped Maela test soup spice levels. She raised an eyebrow when I suggested adding a dash of vinegar.
"It balances the fat," I said. "Just trust me. Korean kitchens run on salt, spice, and sour."
She tried it. Then she nodded slowly.
"Strange boy. Useful tongue."
That's not the worst compliment I've had.
After lunch, I managed to rescue a cornered rat by tossing a potato at the chasing cat.
[Task Complete: Potato Sacrifice for Peace]
[Reward: +1 Kindness (Hidden Stat)]
And lastly, I stitched the hem of one of the newer servant's cloaks during a lull. No one noticed. But she thanked me with a clumsy bow.
Kindness is a resource too.
In the late afternoon, I started an impromptu humming contest while scrubbing pots. Someone started mimicking bird calls. Someone else tried to harmonize. Bran nearly tripped when he stormed in to yell and caught a soprano solo.
[Kitchen Atmosphere Boosted: +1 Morale / Bran's Irritation +2]
Later, I taught a kid how to balance a pot on his head while walking in a straight line. It became a competition. The winner got the biggest bread crust. I made sure of it.
[Mentor Moment: Leadership +1 (Hidden Stat)]
Before lights out, I snuck half my stew portion to an older servant missing most of his teeth. He didn't say thank you. Just gave a nod.
Sometimes a nod's louder than thanks.
Just before sleep, I noticed a crack in the kitchen wall behind the soup shelves. Thin, narrow — maybe nothing, maybe something. I made a mental note.
You never know which cracks lead to doors.
That night, I lay back on my cot and stared at the wood beams above.
Why did I want Lady Livia to remember me?
Not for romance. Not for pride. Not even because she laughed.
Because she has power. Status. She can get into rooms I'll never see.
And if I want to rise — really rise — I'll need eyes up there.
A noble remembering your name is dangerous. But it's also a seed.
And I plan to water it until it grows into leverage.