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Franhowe wasn’t too chuffed with the idea of his fiancée traveling to the coast alone, to her ex-husband's home no less, but Jillmanny assured him that there was going to be no rekindling of old flames.
“I haven’t gotten to see my grandson yet,” she pouted. “I won’t be seeing Fler until the next winter solstice, and he'll probably be walking by then…”
“He’s half dwarf, ain’t he? He'll probably be crawling until we croak.”
“Fran… I won’t be staying long. I just wanted to talk, that's all. And it's been so long since the family has been all in one place.”
Fran’s stern face fell, unable to withstand Jill’s glassy, pleading eyes.
“You sure you’re not just going to ogle the king?” he asked. Jill smacked his shoulder and he cackled. “I wouldn’t blame ya! I know you like ‘em tall…”
“I don’t think Puck would forgive me for muscling in,” said Jill.
“Oh yeah. She’d kill ya.”
For all his huffing and puffing, Fran escorted her to the westward caravan when the time came. He gave her a squeeze and lifted her into the wagon.
“Stay safe,” he warned. “I don’t want you getting caught up in any royal intrigue.”
“Oh, I have no intention to schmooze,” Jill giggled. “That’s Chilchuck’s job.”
As the wagon trundled over flat plains and half-cut forests, Jillmanny expected to see chaos upon entering Kahka Brud proper, yet the flow of traffic at the gates was as steady as she remembered. There was remarkably little fanfare, not so much as a banner hung from the walls to announce the presence of the Devourer King and his entourage. She wondered if she had missed the date, but Meijack was there to receive her at the drop-off point as planned.
“Good to see you, Mom,” Mei said. Jill had spent the ride steeling herself for this moment yet still burst into tears as she hugged her daughter, who gave her an awkward pat on the back just like her father used to.
“I’ll spare you the smothering, baby,” Jill said. Meijack smiled ever so slightly as she hauled her mother’s trunk off the wagon. “Are we staying at the house?”
Meijack huffed as she slung an overstuffed, embroidered bag over her shoulder. “You’re staying at the inn across the street with me n’ Puck. Fler and the baby and that hairy oaf she married have the guest room… and I don’t think you’d wanna sleep over there anyhow.”
“Oh? Why is that?”
Meijack dug a pinky in her ear and scratched, a nervous habit. “The less I say about that, the better.”
Confused, but knowing not to pry into her eldest’s business, Jillmanny followed Meijack to the tavern where she once dined out with Chilchuck on special occasions. Jill expected to feel something upon walking through the familiar doors, but the inside must have undergone a drastic renovation. The floors were no longer sticky, and the tables had bespoke chairs instead of wobbly stools.
“This place cleaned up quite nicely, didn’t it?” Jill observed.
“So did the prices,” Mei sighed. “If that guy wasn’t feeding the city I would’ve voted to push that kingdom back into the water. The economy’s been all out of whack since the castle came up. “
“That guy?” Jill asked, nose wrinkled. “You mean the King?”
“Sure, if that’s what you wanna call him,” Mei shrugged. “Doesn’t seem like much of a king to me.”
That didn’t bode well, but that state of affairs would explain the need for a delegation. Why they would choose Chilchuck to host the entourage in his cramped townhouse was anyone’s guess, but perhaps even royalty must tighten the bejeweled belt from time to time.
“I do hope you’re being respectful,” said Jill. She tried and failed to help Meijack pull the trunk upstairs; Mei wouldn’t allow it. “I would hate for you to cause an international incident. Your father has worked quite hard to maintain good relations with the kingdom.”
Meijack chuckled darkly. “Oh yeah. He worked real hard.”
Jillmanny had arrived well in advance of the date of the dinner party, yet she found herself unnerved by the thought of waltzing straight up to Chilchuck’s door. They had been trading letters back and forth after the dungeon was effectively turned inside out, leaving many half-foot dungeoneers out of work and Jill dreadfully curious as to what the hell happened. Chilchuck was as tight lipped as ever, even in his letters, but cordial. Apologetic, even. Jill had hoped, once upon a time, that hearing of her new suitor might have spurred him to get a little more gung ho about reuniting, but instead he’d sent his blessings and hoped Franhowe would give her what he couldn’t. In one way, it had felt like leaving him all over again, but in another, nothing had truly changed. They lived in different worlds under the same roof, and now the distance had taken physical shape.
Still, she’d received that invitation. It was plain and handwritten, with no gold filigree borders or flowery calligraphy, but it was Chilchuck’s hand and his own stilted words.
I know we don’t talk much anymore, but if there’s anything you need to hear straight from my mouth, you’re welcome to come and eat with us.
Chilchuck never asked for anything other than her hand in marriage; if nothing else, that was enough to bring her to dinner. But until the night of the party, her daughters were the subjects of her nosiness instead.
“So, Puck,” Jill asked, grinning over a plate of greasy tavern food, "have you gotten a chance to chat up the king yet?”
Puck groaned and put her face in her hands. Mei smirked.
“Don’t even ask!” she wailed. “It’s hopeless…”
“Don’t sell yourself short, honey,” Jill said, giving Puck’s glossy hair a fond stroke. “You’re a charming girl. I’m sure—”
“Mom…” Mei shook her head and took a long swig of ale. “It’s a nice thought, but that ship has sailed.”
“How can you be so sure? Has he said as much?”
“Some things don’t need to be said,” Mei replied, and gave her sister that same rough pat on the back.
Jillmanny arrived in her nicest florals and her silk shoes, intent on looking her finest if she was going to talk to her former husband, even if neither vengeance nor reunion were on the menu. The fading sunlight was stretched beyond the water in a deep orange band, the night sky a deep blue with a smattering of faint stars. She took deliberate, slow steps in time with her breathing. There was nothing to worry about, and nothing to lose; yet, when she spied a tall stranger sat on Chilchuck’s front porch, flipping through a worn book with dogeared pages, she was relieved at the excuse to procrastinate.
“Good evening,” she said, trying on a gentle smile. “Are you a guest of Chilchuck’s?”
The tallman jolted at the greeting, rocketed out of his thoughts. “Huh?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Are you a guest of—”
“Of Chilchuck’s? Yeah! Yeah.”
The tallman tucked his book into the inner pocket of his robe, a breezy, bright red garment layered over a plain tunic. The robe was common wear in Kahka Brud, very trendy, but it seemed to offer the man little confidence. He stood, enormous and broad, and offered a clammy hand. Jill could hold maybe three fingers of it to shake.
“What are you doing out here?” Jill asked. “Did you get ejected for acting up? I know Chilchuck likes to serve the strong stuff…”
“Oh, no, no, nothing like that… well, kind of. Not the drinking, that’s—I’m big, so that’s not a problem, haha. I just got a little too into helping with the cooking and Chil crabbed at me for doing too much. And it’s crowded. And loud.”
Jillmanny hummed. “I suppose you aren’t familiar with half-foot tradition? The host is supposed to serve the guests at a function. The guests getting involved in preparation can be… what’s the common word? It can be… emasculating.”
The tallman laughed. “Okay, yeah, that makes sense. He could’ve just told me that, though…”
“That’s Chilchuck for you,” Jillmanny giggled.
“You know him well, huh? Are you a friend of his?”
“I suppose so,” Jill shrugged. The tallman seemed baffled by that answer. “You too, I imagine?”
The man had to think about it. “… I suppose so,” he decided sheepishly. His cheeks were flushed. Clearly he wasn’t invited to many parties.
“My name is Jillmanny,” she said, breaking the awkward silence. “And yours?”
“Oh! Yeah! My name’s Laios,” he beamed. He extended his clammy hand as if they’d never shaken, withdrew it, then presented it once more. Jill shook it again, eyebrow raised.
“Laios? As in…”
“As in Laios Touden?”
The two stared at each other silently; realization bloomed on Laios’ face.
“Oh. As in, uh… Laios ‘Devourer of All Things Horrible’ Touden.”
Jillmanny went pale. “Your Highness! Forgive my ignorance, I—”
She moved to bow, but Laios stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.
“No, please, you don’t have to. Really.” Laios gave her an awkward pat. “I’m not here so people can genuflect, I’m just… here. To visit. I haven’t seen Chilchuck in ages. We used to adventure together, see…”
As Jillmanny started to put the pieces together, recalling a certain idiot coworker from Chilchuck’s letters, the door swung open.
“Alright Lai, get your fat ass back in here, the cockatrice is done—”
Chilchuck, rosy and loose from a few glasses of wine, took a few glances between Laios and Jill to catch up with the situation.
“… Hey, Jill,” he settled, eyes still shifting between them in rising panic.
“Hi, Chil. I didn’t know you rubbed shoulders with royalty.”
“I don’t,” he said. “I helped make him royalty.”
“He did,” Laios smiled warmly. “Is this lady an old friend, Chil? She’s really nice!”
Chilchuck looked to Jillmanny, as if she’d give him the answer. Her mouth stayed firmly shut.
“She’s my really nice ex-wife,” Chilchuck decided.
“Oh! Oh my God! Wow.” Laios forced a laugh, looking around for an exit even though they were outdoors. “It’s, uh, nice to meet you! I’ve heard a lot of things—”
Chilchuck jabbed his elbow into Laios’ side until he crumpled.
“Ow! I was gonna say nice things,” Laios wheezed.
“You don’t have to lie, Your Highness,” Jill said. “I know I didn’t leave in the cleanest way.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself,” Chilchuck sighed. “Don’t mind him, come on in.”
“I appreciate the invitation,” Jillmanny said, sipping from a copper mug of mulled wine.
“I didn’t think you would come,” Chilchuck admitted, “but I’m glad you did.”
Jill smiled. “Do you really smack the King around like that? You might end up in prison once his ego blows up.”
“It keeps him in line,” Chilchuck sniffed. “And he barely feels it. Tallmen are like horses that way. Thick skin, dull nerves.”
“He said ‘ow.’”
“He was being dramatic.”
Jill laughed. Chil smiled privately.
“You two must be close, then, to horse around like that.”
Chil cleared his throat, scratched inside his ear.
“You could say that.”
They watched as Laios tiptoed his way through a sea of bodies much shorter than him, all stocky dwarves, round gnomes and scrawny half-foots, muttering apologies even as they cheered and chanted his name.
“He calls you Chil.”
“He does,” Chil sighed.
“You call him Lai. Does he know what that means?”
Chilchuck put off answering with a long drink. “I’m trying to show him.”
Laios stopped dead in his tracks, letting out a yelp of surprise. “Don’t scare me like that, lil’ guy, I could’ve punted you across the room!” He kneeled and picked up an exquisitely chubby baby. A harried Flertom emerged from the kitchen to find her son in the crook of Laios’ arm and breathed a heavy sigh of relief.
“He can’t get out of the kingdom often,” Chilchuck went on. “He’s a real lemon of a monarch. Isn’t built for it at all. He has his advisors doing most of the talking for him. He’s impulsive and weird. I’m pretty sure he stowed away on a boat to come here and I’m gonna get put on trial for kingnapping.”
“Meijack didn’t seem impressed.”
“Eh… even if he was a half-decent king, she wouldn’t be impressed.”
“True.”
Laios tried to hand the baby off to Flertom, but he started to cry. “Oh no, he wants you!” she giggled and passed him back.
“Please don’t leave him with me…”
“But you’re a natural!”
“He’s so small! I’m afraid to breathe too hard!”
“He’s part dwarf, dummy, he’s like, indestructible. He’d just dent the floor if you dropped him.”
Chilchuck’s guildmates crowed in laughter.
“Mei’s right,” Chil said. “He’s no figurehead. They can weave all the tapestries they want and sound the bugles, it’s not going to make him any more worthy of the crown.” He dropped his chin in his hand.
“But?”
Chilchuck drummed his fingers on his jaw. “But he’s kind,” he ground out. “And a half decent cook. And freakishly smart. And open-minded, for a tallman. And he’s gotten me out of twice as many binds as he’s gotten me into. So I guess he’s alright.”
“You love him, don’t you?”
Chilchuck flashed red like he’d just been scalded, slamming his cup on his knee.
“Where the hell did that come from!?”
“I’ve never heard you say a nice thing about anyone you didn’t love.”
Chilchuck shrunk under her flat reading and dropped his head back on his hand.
“Yeah, well… that’s never changed anything for me, has it?”
“You put it into words,” Jill said. “That’s a start.”
Chilchuck shifted around. Jill didn’t bother to fill the silence for him, just let him sit.
“How’s Franhowe treating you?” Chilchuck asked.
“Very well,” Jill hummed. “We’re having a summer wedding.”
“Smart,” Chilchuck said. “Less chance of getting rained out.”
“It wasn’t so bad,” Jill smiled. “You looked cute, and a little sad, like a drowned kitten.”
“Watch it,” Chilchuck snorted. “I got connections now. I’ll have you jailed.”
“If you do, I’m telling him about how you used to bite your nails and leave them all over the house.”
“Conniving woman,” Chilchuck hissed. “Though… the sad thing is, I don’t think that would deter him.” He drummed his fingers again. "And I was happy. At the wedding, and... after. I was happy for a long time. Honest."
"I know," Jill said, putting her hand over his. He squeezed her delicate fingers in turn.
Cockatrice tasted like chicken. Turned out a lot of monsters tasted like chicken, according to Laios, Devourer of All Things Horrible, except when they taste like crab. Jill got to meet her grandson, even if he sat in the king’s lap the whole time and fussed when she tried to hold him, but Flertom was over the moon to see her; Fler's husband, hairy oaf though he was, was a laugh riot. She’d never planned on staying longer than an hour, but as she waited for Mei and Puck to finish packing their leftovers, she watched the sun rise from Chilchuck’s porch.
“Did you have fun?”
Jill’s ear twitched; it was a familiar tone, one she hadn’t heard Chil speak in since their girls were little and had finally fallen asleep. Utensils scraped on ceramic plates.
“Yeah!” Laios replied, sleepy but boisterous. “It was nice to see your kids again… Puck seemed kind of bummed out, though, is she okay?”
“She’s fine,” Chil laughed. “Just a little put out. Jealous.”
“Of what?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“That makes me worry about it.”
“She’ll get over it. Pass me the dish towel.”
“You’re going to need to scour that one.”
“Ah, hell, you’re right.”
“I got it.”
“Thanks, Lai.”
The sound of metal on cast iron was never sweet to Jill's ears, but she leaned against the doorjamb and listened anyway.
“Do you think I made it weird?” Laios asked.
“Made what weird?”
“Meeting your… meeting Jillmanny.”
“Nah, you did fine. I should’ve told you she was coming, but I couldn’t find a way to bring it up.”
“I would've appreciated the heads up, but she seemed nice.”
“She is. I’m glad we could talk things out.”
“What did you talk about?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Chil…”
“Heh. Just some loose ends. Nothing crazy." Chil stacked one plate on top of another. "She’s getting remarried, y’know.”
“Oh."
Chil stacked another plate.
"So it’s… it’s over, huh?”
“It’s been over, bud," Chil laughed. "Get with the program.”
Meijack yawned as she came through the door, Puckpatti following close behind, half-asleep with a basket of bread and wrapped dark meat that Meijack would destroy for lunch tomorrow.
“Ready to go?” Mei asked.
“I forgot one last thing, sorry.”
Meijack groaned as Jill scurried back inside. She pretended to sift through the keepsake box on the mantelpiece closest to the kitchen, but her eavesdropping was rewarded with silence. She found an old trinket, a single earring she thought had been lost forever after she’d snuck out of their old family home, the one Chilchuck had sold to one of his many brothers that didn’t bother to show up for dinner. She was surprised Chilchuck had kept it, but he was always a bit of a pack rat. As she turned pocketed it and turned to leave, her ear twitched again.
“Hey, Lai?”
“Yeah, Chil?”
“I should’ve told you this a long time ago, but…”
“Mom!"
Jill jolted, rising off her heels.
"C’mon, Puck’s about to pass out.”
"Sorry, sorry..."
Jill hurried out the door, leaving the odd pair alone. Those words weren’t meant for her anymore, after all.