It was yet another usual night at Old Rose, and the place was filled with a muted cacophony of sounds: talking voices, the clink of glasses and plates and cutlery, steps, the kitchen door opening and closing, the pop of a cork, laughter. Tonight, though, all the usual sounds of a busy evening mingled with a lighthearted melody drifting above it all, and it made Arjan smile.
While renovating the house, they'd decided to keep the baby grand piano that'd been left behind by the original occupants. They'd carefully polished it so that it matched its surroundings once more, but no one of them could play anything and so tuning it had been forgotten entirely.
Forgotten, that was, until the previous Monday. On that morning the hotel owners' leisurely breakfast had been interrupted by the arrival of a simply dressed man carrying an ominous-looking suitcase. The man had introduced himself as a piano tuner, and even though both Arjan and Loren denied having ever contacted him, he was adamant. There was absolutely no mistake about the address, he knew precisely what kind of a piano he was there to see, and this was exactly the day and the hour when his presence had been required.
They'd scratched their heads for a while, shrugged, shown him the instrument, and left him to the task. Some hours later the man had reappeared to triumphantly tell that the instrument's interior had now been thoroughly cleaned and the whole thing tuned to perfection. With another shrug they'd paid the reasonable-sounding price and forgotten about the mystery.
Then on the following day a hopeful-looking, curly-haired man had appeared, ostensibly for lunch, and mentioned in passing that he had heard of the piano tuner's recent visit. This remark, together with the stack of sheet music he was for some reason carrying with him, had tipped off the young hoteliers. After some coaxing their visitor had finally spilled out the truth: the more musically inclined patrons frequenting Old Rose had long been tossing wistful glances towards the graceful instrument standing in one corner, and when nagging hadn't resulted in anything, they'd resorted to direct action.
Loren had been surprised and Arjan amused by the audacity of their regulars, but they didn't mind at all. It also impressed them that the culprits had been so thoughtful as to book the tuning for their day-off, when it wouldn't disrupt the everyday workings of the restaurant. Their visitor had watched their reactions with keen interest, and after minimal hesitation he'd asked if he could every now and then come an play at the Rose. Say, for an occasional dinner and some drinks?
He was there again, and Arjan flashed him a happy smile while sweeping past the piano on his way through the nearly full restaurant. Yenn was not only an aspiring composer but also a talented pianist, and Arjan had already heard numerous delighted comments about the music from their guests. Yenn had definitely earned himself and his girlfriend yet another hearty dinner!
Arjan slipped the latest orders into the heated atmosphere of the kitchen. Samiel, face covered in sweat, greeted him with a happy grin and a wave of a spatula and then squinted at the piece of paper on the table.
"Sole with crab sauce seems to be a hit tonight," he observed gleefully. "Dinn, you'd better prepare another plate of the flatties!"
"As soon as I've got these ready," the younger man announced, gaze not turning from the dessert he was decorating.
Arjan retreated back to the restaurant with a chuckle and joined Loren behind the bar. The blond was persuading the cork off a bottle of red wine as his partner reached around him to grab some glasses from a shelf. One of them touched the edge of the tabletop with a melodic clink, and Arjan swallowed a curse.
"Careful..." Loren granted him a sideways glance.
"Yeah, yeah," Arjan huffed , "I know, this week's quota is already full!"
They exchanged a smirk. Sure it had been an accident, and luckily it had taken place only after all the lunchtime guests had left, but those eleven tall-stemmed wine glasses hitting the floor had still made quite a memorable crash.
The kitchen door opened again and Timon backed out, keeping one foot positioned to make sure that the closing door didn't knock over the serving trolley he was pulling. About a week ago the boy had shyly asked if he couldn't also help in the restaurant after the rooms were taken care of, and Loren hadn't needed long to offer him an evening job as a waiter-in-training. It was now his fourth night, and he looked adorably serious and focused in his white shirt and dark slacks as he navigated the trolley towards a nearby table.
Arjan knew that he should've been on his way to deliver the ordered drinks, but was sorely tempted to linger a moment and see how the boy was doing. Timon had taken that order, and after a quick glance at the notepad Loren had told him that he'd also get to serve the meals. He was headed there now, and for some reason also Loren still seemed to be hovering at the bar, apparently doing something though his eyes were trained steadily on the latest addition to their staff.
Arjan nudged his partner. "Don't stare, you're sure to burn holes on him!"
"Not staring," Loren protested, "I just want to see he does it right."
Once Timon had successfully served even the vegetables and potatoes that'd been brought in on separate plates, Arjan grabbed his tray once more and breezed towards the awaiting people, an apology for the slight delay ready on his lips. He heard Loren's whispered 'you did great' as they both passed by the boy, and smiled seeing Timon's tiny grin of relief at the words.
"It's so funny," he observed a few minutes later, once more back behind the bar. "Since when are we such goddamn specialists in how stuff should be served? I mean, neither of us has any training to be a waiter – and all hats off to the wonderful food served at your parents' inn, but the stuff Sami cooks does require a different approach to serving it!"
"Oh, I'm sure that those snotty head waiters from the fine restaurants down below would get a fit, if they ever came up here!" Loren grinned, emerging from below the bar with yet another bottle of wine. "But then, isn't it lucky that there are all those books? And that Sami doesn't make such horribly fancy dishes that we'd get ourselves in a knot trying to serve them right?"
"It sure is... Hey, will you take these Timaschel cocktails to number three at the same time?"
"Yeah, just set them here. For the ladies, right?"
"Correct."
Arjan was about to peek into the kitchen to see if there were any new meals getting ready to be served, but something else caught his eye. A figure was walking outside, past the patio, and his eyebrows jumped up. Instinctively he glanced towards one particular table beneath the luscious mural, already prepared to despair, then heaved a sigh of relief. Incredibly, the table was unoccupied, and thank goodness for that because the place was practically full otherwise!
He had barely enough time to straighten his waistcoat and brush crumbs off his trousers before the front door opened. His feet moved on their own accord.
"Good evening, Milord," he greeted with a deep bow. "Such a pleasure to see you here again!"
"Good evening, Arjan," rhagamiss Midell an-Renaolyn replied. "I wonder, would my table still happen to be free?"
"As a matter of fact, Milord, yes it is," Arjan assured, grabbing a menu from the bar as he ushered the nobleman in. "Have you come for dinner?"
"Yes, please!" The rhagamiss seated himself with a satisfied nod, then granted Arjan a little smile. "And before you ask, yes, I am aware that it's not a seafood soup day. I decided to be adventurous today."
He didn't take long to make up his mind and Arjan rushed the order into the kitchen, then made a trip to their wine cellar to find the gentleman's favorite brand from the shelves. When he reappeared, Loren glanced questioningly at the bottle in his hands.
"Obviously not for this," he chuckled and pointed at the large jug of cold wine-lemonade mix in front of him.
"Heaven forbid!" Arjan gasped theatrically. "The cheaper stuff is good enough for that! Didn't you see who just came in?"
"Of course I did," Loren said. "And it's not even one of his usual days!"
"No," Arjan agreed. "A memorable evening indeed. Now,don't drop anything, because I have to tell you this: he made a joke."
"You're kidding me," Loren breathed. "A joke? Does he know what it means?"
"I'm not, and now you're being evil," Arjan admonished in good humor. "How can you say something like that of our mascot?"
Loren bit his lip not to giggle aloud, then looked around with a worried frown.
"Mascot indeed... but, Arjan, now there's a problem brewing. That party of four who booked a table will be arriving any minute now, and that means all our tables are full. However, the gentleman in No. 6 hasn't dined in town, because he came back just as we were opening for the night, and he's probably coming down for dinner at some point as well. And now there's no table for him!"
"Oh shit," Arjan mouthed. A quick glance confirmed that Loren was indeed right. "And of course tonight of all nights Dad and Reonn aren't here either, so I could just tell them to remove themselves to the gazebo and vacate a table."
"Of course they aren't, just when we'd need them!" Loren sighed. "Which means we'll have to improvise something, or hope that No. 6 has been walking without a hat in the sun and got a mild sunstroke so he'll sleep until tomorrow. Hey, will you please take this to the patio?"
"In a moment, I'll take this to the rhagamiss right now!"
The place was indeed full, and the numerous guests kept all three of them steadily busy. Thus they didn't immediately notice that the gentleman who'd arrived a couple of days earlier and now occupied Old Rose's room No. 6 had descended the stairs. For a moment the man looked approvingly at the buzz around him, then let his gaze sweep around the place once more and seemed to make up his mind.
Arjan nearly tripped on his own feet when he saw that the gentleman who'd so far been missing was only a few steps away from the table where rhagamiss Midell was sipping his wine, and clearly headed that way. Loren was on the patio, Timon presumably fetching something from the kitchen, and there was no way the man could be intercepted in time, but at least Arjan had to try.
He didn't make it but got close enough to hear the polite little cough and then the words:
"Excuse me, sir, I'm exceedingly sorry to disturb... It's rather crowded here today and I was wondering, would you mind very much if I joined you for dinner?"
Arjan held his breath as the nobleman raised his eyes and made a little gesture towards the empty chair.
"By all means, sir."
"Thank you!"
Exhaling as inaudibly as he could, Arjan waited until the men had introduced themselves to each other and then appeared beside their table like a genie. His apologies for the lack of a free table for their guest were, however, graciously waved aside.
"Oh, no problem, no problem! Not your fault, I've been dining in town on so many days that I really should've mentioned I'll be dining here tonight when I came in. And I trust we are all fine now. Milord here kindly allowed me to join him – " He made a little bow towards the nobleman, "so I really have nothing to complain about."
The rhagamiss didn't look too disgruntled, either, and some time later Loren stopped next to Arjan and nudged him.
"Look at our mascot," he said under his breath. "Would you have believed that?"
Arjan looked, eyes going wide. Their good-humored guest had managed to coax the rhagamiss into a conversation, and judging by their expressions the men were getting along just famously.
"Well I never..."
"That's what I thought as well." Loren glanced towards the kitchen door and nodded in response to Timon's beckoning look. "Ah, looks like their appetizers are ready. Will you serve them?"
"Wouldn't dream of it!" Arjan smirked. "No, you do that. I refuse to rob our mascot of his chance to rest his eyes on you, especially as you weren't there to show him to his table and take his order!"
"You just keep harping on about that," Loren grumbled but the corner of his mouth was quirking as he took the plates and headed towards the table right next to the mural. Arjan watched his progress, forever amused by the shyly adoring look that always crept on the rhagamiss' composed face when the handsome blond was nearby.
However, his amusement gave way to a quick stab of despair when he heard that the front door opened. Surely this wasn't going to be the first day when they'd have to tell potential customers that the place was full? Arjan turned to look at the door, bracing himself for the task and trying to guess how many people he'd be politely turning away. Then his eyes went wide.
He recognized the porter who'd stopped modestly by the door, placing a large and somewhat tattered suitcase next to his legs; the same man had brought them their very first hotel guests and a few more since then. But he also recognized the other arrival.
Arjan looked at the broad shoulders, somewhat angular face, tightly curled blond hair, and the pale blue eyes that were avidly surveying the surroundings.
"Loriell?" he managed. "Is that really you?"
"Hello, Arjan!" the newcomer said and stepped closer to shake Arjan's hand. "It's been a while, eh?"
Luckily Loren didn't have anything in his hands as he whirled around, or he'd certainly have spilled something. As it were, he only almost lost his balance and then simply stood there, staring.
"Well well, little brother," said Loriell with a broad smile, "this place looks really posh and gorgeous and everything, but surely you haven't become so grand that you can't say hello?"
Several people sitting nearby, including the rhagamiss and his current companion, watched in curiosity as a completely dumbfounded Loren went to greet the other man and was swept into a solid bear-hug.
"I don't believe this," he gasped at last. "I can't believe this! Loriell, how on earth are you here? And why? Surely there's been nothing horrid happening at home, or something?"
"No, no, kid, they're all fine and well!" Loriell laughed. "That is, at least they were when I left. But hey, you have a house full of people to look after, so I'll make myself scarce and we'll talk later. I was sort of hoping that you could put me up somewhere, though? I don't need more than a mattress on the floor, honestly."
"Don't talk rubbish!" Loren snatched a key from the wall. "Number Three is free, I'm sure you can find it by yourself. Settle down, make yourself comfy, and come down around eleven to grab something to eat with us. Okay?"
"Plain as day, kid!" the big brother said with a chuckle.
He paid the porter and thanked the man for showing him the way, then vanished upstairs amid many interested looks. Nobody in the restaurant could've possibly missed the scene, and both Arjan and Loren got to answer numerous inquiries. Upon hearing that the 'home' the brothers had mentioned was in fact in Beltrionas, a few thousand miles away, everyone agreed that Loriell's appearance in Old Rose was certainly a big surprise and also highly intriguing.
"I admit, you could've swept me down with a feather when I saw him," Loren sighed to Arjan some time later, "but now everyone's so curious that I'm almost tempted to drag him down here and have the talk in front of the full house!"
Arjan laughed. "They can all wait. Less than an hour to go anymore, and then we can have dinner and a proper talk with him."
"Oh good," Loren said glancing at the clock. "I can hardly wait to hear what this is all about."
