NovelEnglishChapter 312 Lisa: Elverly's Seasonings
LISA
"So, this is the face," | explain, pointing to my crude circle. "And these are buttons on the side for different
functions." | add a few lumps to represent the buttons.
The Grand Sage peers at my drawing, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "I see. And you believe we could adapt
something like this for magical communication?"
"Maybe?" | shrug, feeling a bit self-conscious about my suggestion now that I've said it out loud. "I mean, | don't
know much about magic. It was just an idea."
He nods slowly, his eyes still fixed on my terrible sketch. "You know, Lisa, your idea has smerit. The compact
size would certainly be an advantage. Of course, I'd need to acquire sof these watches to see what | could
do with them, but it's an intriguing concept."
A warm flush of pride spreads through my chest at his words. It's nice to feel like I've contributed something
useful, especially when | often feel so out of my depth in this magical world.
A strange scratching sound comes from the door, startlingout of my warm glow. | glance at the Grand Sage,
who looks equally puzzled.
"I'll get it," | offer, pushing away from the table.
As | approach the door, the scratching intensifies, sounding distinctly impatient. Curious, | turn the handle and
pull the door open.
To my surprise, Selene slinks into the room, her silver fur gleaming in the dim light. Ice-blue eyes meet mine
before she pads past me, walking straight toward the older gnome, where they stare at each other in silence.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtProbably mind-reading each other or something.
Elverly gives an exasperated sigh, grabbing for a washcloth and wiping the floor. Muddy paw prints trail behind
Selene, leaving the marks of her presence. "Walking into a home, leaving it a mess. I'd never have a dog as a
pet. Too much tspent cleaning up after them."
"Speople don't mind the mess. But Selene isn't a dog. She's a proper wolf and the Westwood Pack Luna
now."
"Luna or dog, does it change these muddy paws on my floor?" Elverly points at them, her ascerbic words even
throwing Selene off guard. The husky raises a paw, leaning her head down to sniff at it, her tail sliding between
her legs.
"Cnow, Elverly. She is a guest here. Do treat her with a little more understanding."
Elverly's scowl deepens as she turns her gaze from Selene to the Grand Sage. Her wrinkled face contorts into
what | can only describe as a grimace of politeness as she curtsies. It's like watching a cat try to swim—
unnatural and slightly painful to witness.
"My sincerest apologies for my unseemly outburst, Grand Sage," she intones, her voice flat. "It was most
unbecoming and shall not happen again."
| bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. Elverly's delivery? Let's just say she'd never make it as an
actress.
Elverly's attention snaps to me. Maybe she could hear my internal laughter, which stops abruptly as she stomps
over, each step punctuated by a soft thud of her gnomish feet.
"You," she barks, jabbing a gnarled finger at my midsection. "Kitchen. Now. We need to put smeat on those
bones."
A grin spreads across my face. "Didn't you say | was fat?"
She snorts, already turning towards the kitchen. "You're getting fat. You aren't fat yet."
Wait a second. Wasn't she just complaining about the quality of the food here? "Did you pack your seasonings?"
She pauses at the kitchen doorway, throwinga look over her shoulder that clearly questions my intelligence.
"Of course | did. | understand what priorities must be had."
As she disappears into the kitchen, | can't help but chuckle. Trust Elverly to consider her spice rack a priority
during an escape. But then, a memory flashes through my mind—the chaos of our flight, the urgency, the fear.
My smile fades as | realize something.
"Elverly?" | call out, following her into the kitchen. "Did you... did you pack your seasonings before you woke me
up to save my life?"
She's already bustling around the small space, pulling out pots and pans with a clatter that seems too loud in the
sudden silence that follows my question. For a moment, | think she hasn't heard me. But then she turns, fixing
"And what if | did?" she challenges, one eyebrow raised. "Would you rather | left them behind? Then where would
we be? Eating bland, flavorless mush like savages?"
| stare at her, mouth agape.
Really?
"Close your mouth, girl. You'll catch flies," Elverly snaps, turning back to the stove. "And make yourself useful.
Chop those vegetables over there."
Numbly, | move to the counter where a pile of vegetables sits waiting.
| start chopping, the rhythmic thud of the knife against the cutting board matching the confused beating of my
heart. The silence stretches between us, broken only by the sizzle of whatever Elverly's cooking and the steady
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmchop-chop-chop of my knife.
"You know," Elverly says suddenly, her voice gruff as always, "a good chef always has their tools ready. Can't
make a proper meal without the right seasonings."
| pause in my chopping, glancing over at her. She's not looking at me, focused intently on stirring something in a
pot.
"But," she continues, "a chef is nothing without someone to cook for. What's the point of all those spices if
there's no one to appreciate the meal?"
Elverly turns then, fixingwith a glare that's somehow softer than usual. "Don't get any ideas, girl. | still think
you're a nuisance. But you're my nuisance. And I'll be damned if | let anything happen to you on my watch."
A warmth blooms in my chest, chasing away the cold doubt that had settled there. | feel my lips quirk up into a
smile.
"Thanks. I like you, too."
She huffs, turning back to her cooking. "Don't push it. Now hurry up with those vegetables. I'm not getting any
younger over here."
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