9
Even after turning his entire kitchen upside down, all Obi had to show for it was a quarter–dozen eggs and half a loaf of day old bread. Or maybe it was two days old, when was the last time he stopped by the bakery stall on Pavilion Street?
He stares at the meager findings, arms folded across his chest, fingers tapping impatiently, as though the food before him might multiply—or better yet, morph into something more suitable—under his stern unflinching gaze.
It did neither.
Unfortunately, sneaking down to the soldiers' mess hall was out of the question. There just wasn't enough time to get there and back before the guard changed shifts, and it would be another two hours at least before it cleared out again. But more than that, he didn't want to do anything out of the ordinary. Nothing that would make someone wonder, nothing that would set tongues wagging, nothing that might launch a new rumor.
And he simply was not in the habit of rummaging around the mess hall cupboards at this hour of the night.
So. Eggs and toast it was, then.
Meanwhile, Shirayuki fetches her damp clothing from the little room Obi first sent her into to change. It was meant for an assistant, or perhaps a squire, furnished only with a simple bed and wardrobe. She carefully arranges her shawl and nightgown on a chair before the kitchen fireplace, to dry properly.
Then she straightens the blanket about her shoulders, glancing around for something else to occupy herself with.
So Obi suggests she take a look around, at these ridiculous lodgings. Knight or no, he didn't need this much space, had tried to request a more modest room—but apparently anything less was an insult to his Master.
And once he mentions that there happens to be a room full of books, well. That was that and she was off in search of it.
Shirayuki explores the other rooms, opening doors and peering cautiously inside, then entering for a better look around. This kitchen was the center of things, judging by the number of doors leading off it. There was a large drawing room, complete with luxuriously upholstered furniture and polished tables—for entertaining guests, she supposed.
Another door leads to a storage closet, and yet another to a room where high-backed chairs surrounded a table strewn with maps and notations in many hands. There was a bath and a large bedroom and that leaves only one more door...
A triumphant 'ahHA!' told him exactly when she locates the office and its treasure trove. He smirks and shakes his head, turning his attention back to the cooking.
Before long Shirayuki returned, clutching a leather-bound volume in her arms.
Of course Miss found a book that'd interest her. He had tried skimming over the spines one stormy day, when he was exceptionally bored, but his eyes glazed over at such titles as 'A Brief History of the Northern Houses volume seventeen' and 'Court Etiquette: 1001 Scenarios You May Encounter and How to Navigate Them with Grace and Tact.'
He avoided the bookshelves after that.
"What's that?" Obi gestures broadly to the book tucked beneath her arm, " 'Rare Plants of the North volume six?' "
"No, I've already read that one. This is about Lyrias." She holds the tome at arm's length and reads, " 'The Founding of the Great Checkpoint in the North' "
"What volume?" he teases.
"...Nine."
"Pft—" Obi stifles a laugh.
"This one is specifically about Scholar's Street!" Shirayuki informs him matter-of-fact, "Or what eventually became Scholar's Street." She sets the book on the table with a thump and settles into a chair.
Obi thoughtfully nudges the eggs in the skillet.
"Miss, is there really a 'Rare Plants of the North volume six?' "
"There is, and the series runs all the way to volume nineteen." She opens the book and begins to scan the first few pages.
"...Then how many volumes are in 'Common Plants of the North?' "
"One hundred eighty four," comes the automatic reply.
"What!? And you read them all? How long did that take?"
"Um," she tilts her head to one side, remembering. "Eight months, I think? I got through most of them last winter. They're actually rather short, that's why there's so many."
Still. Just the thought of it made his head spin. All that reading on top of running the Pharmacy with Little Ryu, and the Olin Maris research? These scholarly types were something else.
"Well," he turns just in time to catch Shirayuki stifle a yawn, "food's ready. I hope you like eggs," he grins.
"Since you made them, I'm sure it'll be delicious." Obi always worked wonders in a kitchen and she enthusiastically digs into her plate.
After the meal, Obi tidies up while Shirayuki buries her nose in 'The Founding.'
He glances over, while drying the plates—watching her nod off. Her head bobs once, twice, and then she jolts awake, yawning and rubbing at her eyes.
"Tired, Miss? You can have your pick of the beds. The big one is very soft."
"Eh? N-no, I'm fine," she yawns again, flustered.
"Like sleeping on clouds, Miss."
"I'm—going to finish reading this."
Her tone told him further objection was pointless, so Obi silently observes from across the room, as she struggles to stay awake, valiantly fighting her obvious exhaustion, denying sleep like a child determined to stay up past bedtime.
The book couldn't possibly be that interesting.
Finally, her head droops and she doesn't wake again after a mere handful of moments.
He waits a few minutes more before calling out, soft: "Miss, you'll catch cold if you sleep there."
She mutters something indistinct—though he's fairly certain he caught the phrase 'therapy room'—and tightens her grip on the blanket, resuming her slumber.
Seriously, how many times had he found her slumped over a book, over her research notes, sound asleep? At least she didn't collapse from exhaustion this time.
So Obi very gently gathers her into his arms and carries her to bed.