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Jovan shook her head and sat up. She’d had a little more to drink the night before than she’d intended, a fact that didn’t surprise her in hindsight. She hadn’t made it all the way into bed but had instead slept sprawled on top of the covers. The setting sun sent golden beams into her room. She usually kept things simply decorated in her off-season quarters, though of course there had been periods where she’d changed things up a bit. One has time to experiment as an ageless.
Jovan straightened her clothes as she stood. She went into the little bathroom connected to her room, splashed cold water on her face, and rinsed out her mouth to wash yesterday’s bad tastes from her tongue. She looked up and consulted herself in the mirror, squinting. Legend had been making out in the corner with the younger Dragna girl. First Caraval in ages and he was just as sloppy as ever.
A few stretches relieved the stiffness in her body, and Jovan set about dressing herself for the night. Caraval took place at night and the players usually kept to their nocturnal schedule throughout the rest of the year. Time would pass normally for the most part, but once they were rested and the preparations for next year’s Caraval were complete Legend might poke or prod at the fabric of time to speed things along.
If there would be another Caraval, that is. This one was special. Did that mean business as usual? They’d asked Legend in the months proceeding if they’d keep performing, but it was impossible to make Legend give a straight answer when he didn’t want to. Aiko grumbled that Legend was just too chicken to deliver bad news, but Jovan secretly wondered if he actually didn’t know.
Jovan took one last look at her hair and face before heading out—no stray, leftover makeup, and her hair flying gratefully free around her head—and made her way downstairs to the kitchen.
As expected, no one else was awake. Jovan put a kettle on the stove to make the much-needed tea and coffee and began scanning the cupboards for breakfast materials. Legend kept from using his powers for much of the regular year, but he expended a small amount for everyday conveniences, like keeping the kitchens well-stocked at all times, even providing premade meals when he was feeling generous. After the last week, and after the amount he’d been drinking, Jovan doubted he’d be interested in providing a meal for the players.
Jovan stared into the cupboards and scrunched up her face. She had a reputation for being the softy of the company, always helping a bit more than the other players liked, but she’d long since decided that she wouldn’t let their cynicism rub off on her. Resolutely she gathered the ingredients she’d need for a plentiful spread.
As soon as the water was boiling Jovan began brewing a pot of green tea and set a pot of coffee to steep. Not long after Aiko wandered into the kitchen, bright eyes concealed beneath heavy squints. Silently she poured herself a cup of coffee and stood at the counter, sipping it at regular intervals. Jovan glanced at her, but said nothing and continued to work on the breakfast preparations. After Aiko had finished about half the cup she began looking in the cold cupboard.
“Cream’s here,” said Jovan, gesturing with her head while beating together a thick batter. Aiko poured enough cream into her coffee to fill the cup back all the way once more. Jovan hid a smile, wondering if Aiko had needed the coffee badly enough to drink it black or if she simply hadn’t noticed that she’d poured herself a full cup. Or better yet, she hadn’t noticed initially, but made herself drink it to save face, instead of alternating sips and blops of cream until the ratio was adequate. That thought made Jovan chuckle.
Jovan placed two pans of muffins and bacon each inside the oven and set about chopping assorted vegetables—peppers, spinach, potatoes, and others to be steamed and sautéed. Around this time Nigel appeared silently in the kitchen, peered inside the oven, and then removed a towl-covered bowl from on top of a cupboard. He must have been working in the kitchen before even Jovan was awake. Unlike most of the players, Nigel dressed the same way year-round, a simple cloth round his waist. However, for the occasion he donned a plain cream-colored apron in a strange display of practicality and muscle. It was as if his tattoos had come to help cook, too.
Jovan continued working and decided she couldn’t stand the quiet anymore. She glanced at Aiko.
“How was your night?” she asked, cracking eggs into a bowl.
Aiko shrugged. “The last night is a night to celebrate. I celebrated.” She refilled the kettle and put it on the stove. Most of the players were waking up or would be awake soon. While none of them were explicitly magical, they were certainly all connected in some ways, letting them to know little things about one another even when they weren't together. You didn’t go about life as they did and not retain some the effects of Legend’s reality-bending magic.
Jovan smiled and whisked the eggs. Aiko wasn’t one for positing her opinion, but Jovan knew that was a positive appraisal of the night.
“Excuse me,” said Nigel. He placed two pans of bread into the oven, snuggled in next to the poppyseed muffins—which looked to be almost done. Nigel removed his apron and stalked out of the kitchen as silently as he’d come.
Silvia came into the kitchen next, clutching her head. She grabbed a cup of tea and left immediately. She kept a rigid morning physical routine, and this morning was likely no exception. Jovan made a mental note to make sure she got a good breakfast, though. Aiko put a second pot of tea and coffee each to brew and took the first round out to the large dining table outside the kitchen.
“Whatcha making, Jovan?” Caspar wandered in, breathing deeply the variety of scents, then grimaced slightly. Jovan raised an eyebrow and piled a dish high with scrambled eggs.
“I promise it all smells great!” he said. Jovan let a smile break through her feigned dismay.
“If you’re going to loiter in here you can at least check the muffins,” she said, transferring the potatoes into a bowl and tossing them with salt and spices. Caspar removed the muffins and prodded a couple of them until he was satisfied. Jovan handed him a plate to put them on. Aiko came back into the kitchen and left once more with other beverages, milk, cream for the coffee, and whatever fruit juices Legend had thought to supply them with.
“And after that you can take the bacon out,” Jovan instructed Caspar. “Aiko will get those.” As if in proof of her words, Aiko returned and whisked away Caspar’s careful pyramid of steaming muffins.
Anastasiya popped her shiny blonde head in. “Smells great! Anything I can help with?”
Jovan smiled but could only call over her shoulder. “The potatoes and the vegetables can go out.”
Anastasiya wrinkled her nose. “Who has vegetables at breakfast?”
“Don’t worry, there’ll be pancakes, too,” said Jovan.
“Ugh, you’re the best, Jovan!” she said as she left.
Jovan flipped the first set of pancakes. Nigel and Aiko both came back into the kitchen. Jovan stepped aside for Nigel to reach his bread and looked at Aiko.
“I think there’s some fruit? At least strawberries, in the cold cupboard. Could you cut them up for the pancakes?”
Aiko nodded. Jovan chuckled as she returned to the stove. Aiko may be fully awake now, but she wasn’t happy about it.
A delighted din of voices rising and falling alerted Jovan to the presence of a large number of the company in the next room. She wished she could make the pancakes cook a little faster. Nigel set the bread on its side to cool briefly and began helping Aiko cut the fruit.
During the fourth round of pancakes Silvia returned, refilled her tea from the second pot, and placed something on the counter near Jovan.
“Chew on this,” she said, distributing more to Nigel and Aiko. “It’ll help wake you up.”
Jovan saw she had left three wild mint leaves for her, thankfully not in one of many haphazard piles flour. Aiko rapidly popped hers into her mouth. Jovan munched the leaves gratefully, savoring the fresh bite.
Jovan decided that five batches of pancakes was adequate. She could always make more if people wanted them. She carried the tall stack she’d developed to the dining room, followed closely by Aiko with a bowl of summer fruits and berries and Nigel with the bread atop a heavy wooden cutting board.
Nearly the whole company was crowded into the dining room, spread around the table (and on top of it in some places) and on chairs and benches brought into the room from elsewhere. Caspar smacked Azariah’s hand to keep him from reaching for a slice of bacon.
“No! Not until Jovan says it’s all ready!” He sat like a skinny bouncer on the far edge of the table, where all the food had been set in a buffet-style lineup. Jovan’s heart turned delighted somersaults at the sight of the all the food. Plates sat at one end, then the muffins, bread from Nigel, steamed potatoes and vegetables, bacon, eggs, and pancakes with fruit, and then finally a wide variety of drinks to accompany. Jovan looked up and realized the players had largely gone quiet and were looking at her expectantly.
She laughed. “It’s all ready!”
The players pushed one another into what could, with a little imagination, be considered a line, keeping Jovan near the front. Everyone was able to take all that they could eat. They settled themselves down around the room as they did before, spilling outside onto the front steps for the fresh night air once the dining room became too stuffed with body heat and the steam of hot food.
Jovan was on her third plate, which mostly consisted of bacon and fruit, when Armando, Joan, and Leonor began gathering dirty plates from the players and whisking the leftovers back into the kitchen. Jovan ate her last slice of bacon and moved to stand, but Aiko gently grabbed her arm.
“Let them take care of it,” said Aiko. “They’ve got it under control.”
Jovan smiled, a smile that turned quickly into a laugh. She scanned the tired but happy faces around her and munched on a strawberry. She would be disappointed if they didn’t host Caraval next year, yes—but the times between weren’t so bad, either.