“Wow, Miss Hikari, that is a wonderful story,” Nia admits. “I understand Mr. Cash is important to you.”

Hikari smiles. “Thanks, Nia, but you can call me Hikari. No need to be formal.”

Nia blushes and looks down at the floor.

She’s being so nice to me. It’s embarrassing. I’m at a loss for words.

“Are you okay, Nia? You seem worried.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine. My mind wonders sometimes.” Nia laughs.

Please don’t think I’m scared; please don’t think I’m scared.

“That’s okay, happens to me too.”

“Right, so, um, I’m going back to my room and unpack. We can talk again during dinner with Mr. Cash.”

“Sounds good. See you then.”

Hikari looks on as Nia briskly walks down the hall, then returns back to her bedroom.

That poor woman seems shy and scared. This must be a new experience for her. Maybe Mr. Cash can help. Reliving those memories makes me feel more confident. I look forward to our next meeting. I know he’ll assist us both with our problems.

Before closing the door, she hears a loud rattling of metal from another part of the castle that makes her jump.

Ugh, I hate loud noises like that. Those chefs seem to be busy. I hope their cooking makes up for it.

.                                                                       .                                                                       .

“Here is your room, Monsieur Bernard,” Chav says while opening the door with the card symbol of a heart tied to its handle. With heavy bags in tow, Bernard enters a Provencal French-style suite lined with wallpaper depicting cooking appliances, tools, and ingredients. A small herb garden lines the windowsill with nametags attached. Bernard drops his jaw (and almost his luggage) at the beautiful sight.

Leave it to my dear friend to have a personalized place of my own!

“I trust it is to your liking?” Chav asks with the air of an assured psychic.

After a minute, the latter finds his words. “I-It’s beautiful Monsieur Chav. Please, give my regards to Monsieur Cash for this luxury.”

“I will do that. Now remember what I told you about the cooks in the kitchen. They can be very territorial in their natural domain, especially with others unknown to them.”

A dry chuckle escapes Bernard’s mouth. “Oh, that won’t be a problem. I’ve tangled with people like that and know how to stand my ground. Once a Parisian head chef tried to intimidate me; by noon he ran off with his tail between his legs.”

Chav’s lips form a small wry smirk which he attempts to conceal. “I understand, sir.”

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

“Dinner is set for six, so you’ll have plenty of time to unpack and rest. I will call you and the other guests ten minutes before then.”

“Thank you, Chav.” Bernard remains focused on his unpacking.

“Is your friend aware you’re staying here?”

What friend? Oh, that guy who walked with me.

“Um, we were both on our way here, so I’m sure he surmises. Why do you ask?”

“I wondered if you two would share this room together.”

For a split second, Bernard’s eye twitched in irritation.

“Oh, no, it wouldn’t be fair to him since he has his own in this gigantic castle. Besides, I prefer to be alone.”

“Very well. I hope you have a pleasant stay. Meet me downstairs by the entrance if you want anything.”

“Thank you.”

Bernard collapses on the bed after the butler leaves and sighs.

The last thing I need is a roommate. I’ve had too much of that for years now.

His eyes close until the crash of his pots jolt him awake, making him groan.

Meanwhile, Chav walks downstairs to greet the last guest, furiously rubbing his palms with hand sanitizer.

Bernard seems like a noisy guest, the kind I dislike. Still, it’s better not to tell any of the visitors about what happened to Mr. Cash, because then things will get unpleasant.