Autumn painted the Whispering Forest in hues of gold and red as Dahlia arrived at Erika's Bakery, her boots crunching on fallen leaves. She wasn't in her usual silk dress—today, she wore a tight leather tunic, a wooden sword at her hip, and a small bow slung over her back. Beside her stood her brother Flower, older by several years, his gear far more practical: a sharp iron sword, a sturdy hunting bow, and a leather quiver filled with arrows.
"Leon!" Dahlia called, grinning. "Ready for the hunt? Or should I say… picnic?"
Leon leaned against the bakery door, raising an eyebrow. "Hunt? The woods near town have barely any game. This is just an excuse to eat."
Dahlia laughed, tossing him a small pouch of sugar. "Guilty. Flower's free today, and Isabella's done with her accounting lessons. Let's go—we've got guards, we've got baskets, and I'm starving."
Isabella emerged from the bakery, adjusting her cloak. At eleven, she was tall and quiet, her penmanship now sharp enough to keep the bakery's accounts. "Gage wants to come," she said, nodding toward the small figure clinging to her hand. Four-year-old Gage grinned, clutching a wooden toy sword.
Leon sighed but smiled. "Fine. But if he runs off, you're chasing him."
The group set off, guards trailing a respectful distance behind. Villagers stepped aside as they passed, bowing slightly to Flower and Dahlia. It felt odd, being part of a procession, but Leon had grown used to the Sainsbury family's influence. He still hated the rigid class lines—his modern soul rebelled against it—but he'd learned to keep his feelings to himself.
They reached a clearing by a stream, sunlight filtering through the trees. "I'll hunt with Marcus," Flower said, gesturing to one of the guards. "We'll be back soon." Isabella took Gage to gather wild berries and mushrooms, while the other guard kept watch. Leon pulled a fishing rod from his pack—he hadn't fished since moving to town, and the quiet stream looked perfect.
He found a shaded spot beneath an oak tree, baited his hook with a worm, and cast into the water. The afternoon sun was warm but not harsh, and the sound of the stream lulled him into a drowsy calm. He'd barely closed his eyes when a tug on the line jolted him awake. With a quick pull, he reeled in a spotted minnow, its scales shimmering in the light.
"Not bad," he muttered, setting it in a small bucket of water.
Before he could cast again, Flower and Marcus returned, the guard carrying a plump muntjac over his shoulder. "Lucky find," Flower said, dropping the deer gently. "Enough for everyone—and leftovers for tomorrow."
Leon stood, rolling up his sleeves. "I'll handle the cooking. Spread the blanket, and get the spices from my pack."
Marcus skinned and gutted the muntjac, while Leon skewered it on a thick branch. He mixed honey, ground pepper, and dried herbs into a paste, slathering it over the meat before holding it over the fire. The scent of roasting venison filled the air, sweet and savory, as he brushed it with honey water every few minutes. For the fish, he fried it in camellia oil until crispy, then added it to a pot of boiling water with wild greens, creating a creamy white stew.
By the time the food was ready, Gage was bouncing with excitement, and Dahlia was leaning over the fire, inhaling deeply. "Is it done yet? It smells amazing!"
Leon sliced the venison, its meat tender and juicy, and served it with a side of herb dip—ground horseradish, garlic, and salt mixed with a splash of mead. He handed Gage a small piece of fish, then passed bowls of stew to Isabella and Flower.
"This is better than the chef's cooking at the manor," Flower said, taking a second helping.
Leon smiled, biting into a piece of bread. It wasn't gourmet—just simple, hearty food—but in a world of boiled meat and plain bread, it felt like a luxury. As they ate, Dahlia chattered about her upcoming lessons and Flower complained about his knight training ("It's all drills, no action"). Leon listened, feeling a quiet contentment. Lazy afternoons like this, with friends and family, were rare—and precious.
As the sun began to set, they packed up, Gage asleep in Isabella's arms. Leon glanced at the forest, thinking of Eldrin's journal, of the ruin he'd promised to find. But for today, he pushed the thoughts aside. Some days were meant for adventure, for secrets, for legacy. Others were meant for picnics, for laughter, for being just a kid.
And today, Leon was happy to be lazy.