The first few tickets came in fast, each one clipped to the little rail that ran along the order stand by Chef Tulliver's side.
"Hot veg—seared beans and root mash, table three," Chef Tulliver announced.
She nodded to herself, grabbed her pan, and got the oil shimmering. The green beans sizzled as soon as they hit the metal, then after a moment, she tossed in the chili butter.
Next came the marrow mash. She spooned in the herb blend, folded it through, and checked the texture twice. A Hearthgarden Kitchen staffer hovered by her elbow, ready to help plate, and Aya gave the woman a quick "thanks" before sliding the bowls toward the pass.
Another ticket came in. And then another.
"Turnips, carrots, mash, and beans. All to table five! Mains as well, you're doing—"
Aya didn't stick around to listen to the next part, as she only had to pay attention to her section of the order. She moved quickly and carefully, but her hands still fumbled once while reaching for the ladle, causing the bowl she was working on to nearly tip.
"Watch your towel," someone said behind her. It was probably Orin.
She fixed it, tried again, and kept going.
Somewhere between the second and third tray, her carrots were off timing by almost half a minute. It wasn't a lot, but in a working kitchen, she could feel the tempo change, like her station was off-key in a song everyone else was playing.
Then Ciela looked her way. No words, as she simply followed with a subtle tap of a plating spoon against the rim of her dish. It was a signal for Aya's part of the order, warning her just one step ahead.
And that signal helped with her pace.
Richard stepped over next. "Two mash, two glazed roots—can you send now?"
Aya nodded, pushing back her hair with the crook of her arm. "Just a sec, please!"
He waited, gave a small smile, and said nothing more.
A few more servings later, and Aya found her rhythm again. Her timing smoothed out, her mash was warm and whipped to the right consistency, and her carrots had just the right glaze consistency when they hit the plate.
Ciela handled the final touches, placing the sides precisely where they needed to be.
And all throughout, Chef Tulliver circled by, murmuring reminders: 'Good color on those turnips; careful on the sauce edge; bring that mash back for a stir, it's not hot enough.'"
Aya kept her ears tuned to the critiques while managing her own space. She didn't talk much, but her hands kept moving.
By the time the lunch hour passed noon, they had held the pace steady.
Aya continued her work by sautéing, folding, adjusting heat, passing sides one after the other. The tasks repeated, over and over, but somehow felt unique every time. Every plate had minor differences. Some tables asked for no root mash. Others needed extra sauce. A few swapped the seared beans for a double portion of carrots.
There were hiccups, of course. She over-salted one batch of turnips and scrapped it before it reached the pass. Once, she missed a cue and nearly served her pan too early before Petra called her back. At one point, Richard even reminded her where the clean ladles were kept.
But regardless of her slight slips, the team moved fluidly. Petra called out times efficiently. Orin responded to hand gestures with no need for words. Ciela somehow managed to handle both plating and keeping a hawk's eye on what each person was doing.
Aya didn't know how they all worked so well together.
They weren't all in the same year, and some had clearly worked in kitchens before, in other events maybe, or through Professor Barlowe's advanced program. There was a rhythm to them—subtle, like a current underfoot. Aya still didn't know the steps, but she was paddling hard to catch up.
And when she did?
It felt good.
Eventually, the last few tickets came in slower. A last call for mash. One last carrot glaze.
Then came the tiny bit of silence within the kitchen.
Aya wiped her station down with her second clean towel and let herself breathe out. Her arms were sore, and the fur on her ears was slightly sweaty from the heat.
That was when Chef Tulliver's voice spoke out again.
"That's lunch, everyone!" she said as she looked at them over the counter, arms folded, and smiled. "Congratulations. You've survived your first service of the day."
Petra let out a small whoop and gave a few light claps as she smiled big yet tiredly. Juniper followed suit, bumping shoulders with her and mumbling something celebratory between them. Ciela dusted her hands against her apron and offered a clear, "Good work, everyone."
Aya's shoulders slumped slightly in satisfaction. Her hands still tingled from the repetitive movements, but the completion felt satisfying.
Then, Chef Tulliver stepped forward and swept a hand toward the counters. "My staff will take care of the cleaning. You're here to cook, not scrub. Go rest. You've earned it."
That earned a round of grateful "Thank you, Chef," from all of them, Aya included.
She untied her apron, patted it down to tidy, and hung it on the designated hook.
Ciela turned back to Chef Tulliver. "When should we return for dinner service?"
"Be back by five. Dinner service starts at five-thirty and ends around eight," Chef Tulliver replied. "So I want you all in and prepped before the rush."
"Got it," Ciela nodded.
Then Richard raised a hand, while his other hung a towel over his shoulder. "Chef, what about room service? The ones being delivered to the guests' suites?"
"No need to worry about that for now," Chef Tulliver replied. "Most of the guests are still settling in. Deliveries won't begin until after tonight's dinner at the earliest. My team will handle it today."
There were no complaints about that.
"Thank you, Chef," they all gratefully said again.
Aya turned to the kitchen staffer who had been assisting her earlier, and it was the first time she's got a good look at her without worrying about any time sensitive stuff. It was a gray-furred squirrel-folk woman who looked slightly older than her.
After offering a smile, Aya bowed her head politely. "Thank you for your help today."
"You're welcome," the woman responded back with a smile. "Not bad for a first-timer."
With that, the team began to shuffle out of the kitchen, stretching sore limbs and quietly chatting as they made their way toward the exit.
As they stepped into the hallway, Ciela paused to look back at them. "Alright, we've got until quarter to five to rest. We can do whatever we like, but I suggest we all head back to the cabin and have lunch there first."
"Oh! Dibs on cooking," Juniper said quickly, already half-skipping ahead. "I wanna try something I saw in the Hearthgarden recipe book. Looked simple enough."
Richard raised a brow at her. "Simple enough for you usually involves a fire hazard."
"Exactly," Juniper grinned.
Their chatter drifted lightly as the group made their way out of the Concorde Summit grounds and back toward the path leading to Briarrest Cabin.
Aya walked quietly among them, only trailing a few steps behind. Her arms felt loose now. Her tail had relaxed, no longer twitching from time to time because of the slight intensity. She let out a small, quiet, satisfied sigh.
Then—
A gentle pat on her shoulder made her ears twitch in surprise.
"Good work today, Aya."
Aya flinched just slightly and turned with a small gasp. "Oh!"
Richard stood there, hand already halfway recoiled.
"Ah—sorry," he blurted. "Forgot you bunny-folk can be a little jumpy."
Aya blinked, then giggled behind her hand. "Oh! It's okay! And… thank you. Especially for earlier," she answered as she continued to walk.
"Perks of working in a team. You did fantastic, really."
Aya gave a small, bashful smile. "Really? That means a lot… thank you again."
Richard let out a small hum, hands in his pockets as he walked beside her, his tail slowly swaying behind him. "You know, I still can't believe they haven't picked you for any kind of catering duty until now. You've been at Saint Maribelle's for, what, how long?"
Aya tilted her head. "Since my first year."
"See? That's wild. All this time, and no one's snapped you up for an event gig?" He shook his head. "Maybe it's finally time people realize you're not just the school's sweetheart baker. You're more than the girl who hands out free cookies to half the faculty."
Aya laughed softly, blushing slightly. "Nay~ I'm fine with whatever the school wants me to be or to do. I'm already having fun, so I don't mind."
"Really?" Richard raised an eyebrow. "So, all those sweet treats weren't just 'bored bunny' handouts?"
"Goodness, no!" Aya waved her hands and laughed. "I love baking things for people! If I had more time during breaks, I'd even make light meals or snacks sometimes. Just to help out anyone who doesn't want cafeteria food that day."
"Oh? Not a fan of the school lunches?"
"Oh nay, not like that. The cafeteria's food isn't bad at all! It's just…" she looked up, thinking, "Sometimes it gets so packed. And some folks don't really like waiting that long. I've had a few friends tell me that by the time they reach the front, the dish they were eyeing runs out."
Richard chuckled, nodding. "Been there. Waited ten minutes once just to miss the curry. Enormous waste of a break."
Aya giggled again. "Exactly! I just thought… maybe I could help a little if I had the time. That's all."
He looked at her for a second, then shook his head with a half-smile. "You really are something, y'know that? Talented, helpful, and really adorable."
Aya's cheeks turned a gentle pink, her ears tilting back slightly. "Talented and helpful? Adorable? Oh Richard, I'm really not that big of a deal, you give me lots of credit," she mumbled, brushing a hand over her fringe. "But… I suppose, thank you again."
Richard gave a chuckle, nudging her arm with his elbow. "Well, I'll be looking forward to seeing your kitchen magic again at dinner."
She smiled and looked up at him and nodded.
"Me too! I'm looking forward to working with everyone again."