Chapter Ten: You Have the Talent to Be a Gourmet

“Haha, I’ve recovered!”
After two days of rest, Linley woke to find his skin had returned to its original color, the greenish hue gone, his features now fair and tender once more.
“As expected, this looks much better,” he said with satisfaction, putting on his mask. “Alright, time to train!”
“Your Highness!”
Just as Linley was about to head out, the maids stopped him, saying, “You can’t go out today. Your teacher is coming for lessons this morning.”
“Isn’t today supposed to be lesson-free?” Linley was puzzled. As a prince, he didn’t have to attend school like other elven children, but Lin Wen had arranged for many private tutors. In truth, his childhood was hardly more relaxed than anyone else’s.
“What lesson is it?” Linley continued, “It’s not royal etiquette, is it?”
Of all his lessons, Linley loathed royal etiquette the most. The instructor was a stubborn old lady, her face perpetually stern and humorless; at the slightest misstep, she would hoist him up with magic.
Worse still, she was the archmage who’d taught both the current king and the crown prince. Her status was lofty, and though Linley privately called her Nanny Rong, there was nothing he could do about her.
“It’s not royal etiquette.”
The maids shook their heads, and just as Linley was about to relax, they continued, “The crown prince has added a new course for you: physiology and hygiene.”
“Physiology and hygiene?” Linley’s expression turned odd. Wasn’t that just sex education? “Even that’s a course?”
“Of course,” the maids nodded. “The crown prince has arranged for Nanny Rong to teach it. She said she’ll make sure you control your lower half and grow into a healthy man.”
“Hell no!”
Nanny Rong, that iron-faced disciplinarian, teaching him physiology? She’d probably insist on examining his development in excruciating detail.
Without another word, Linley leapt out the window. “I’m not learning that! I don’t need a physiology class!”
What a joke! He had seen plenty already; what more was there to learn?
Linley rushed off to find a hiding spot. He sped through the palace, but was moving so quickly that he accidentally sent a round ball flying at a corner.
“Ouch!”
The round ball tumbled into a bush. Hearing the cry, Linley was startled. “What are you?”
“I should be asking you that!”
An irate dwarf with a bushy beard scrambled out of the shrubbery. Stocky but so short he looked almost spherical.
“You’re a dwarf?!” Linley’s eyes lit up. The palace had seen a lot of guests lately, but he hadn’t expected to see a dwarf.
“Of course I’m a dwarf—what are you?” The dwarf sized Linley up. He looked like an elf, but elves were as fragile as bamboo shoots; how could one possibly send him flying?
What kind of creature was this?
The dwarf stepped closer to inspect him, but just then the distant cries of palace guards rang out.
“Hurry, he’s over there!”
Both Linley and the dwarf’s expressions shifted. They dove into the bushes, pressing themselves flat to the ground. They hadn’t expected the other to do the same, and so they stared wide-eyed at one another.
The guards rushed past just ahead.
“Your Highness, have you seen His Highness?”
“Not here, check over there!”
The guards quickly moved away. The dwarf glared at Linley, his beard bristling. “Kid, what kind of trouble did you stir up to have them chasing you like this?”
“And you’re hiding so deftly yourself—doesn’t seem like you’re much better,” Linley retorted, scowling at the dwarf. “What are you doing here?”
“Hmph! I am the dwarf king’s younger brother, here as a guest in the elven kingdom,” the dwarf snorted. “I haven’t done anything wrong, but it’s not every day I get to visit the elven palace—I wanted to look around.”
Now Linley understood. The country bumpkin wanted to explore the city and had slipped out alone, probably without permission.
The dwarf frowned. “Your Highness… is that your name? That’s a terrible name. Who named you?”
Linley chuckled inwardly. Fools abound every year, but this year in particular seemed to have an abundance.
A thought struck him. “You want to look around the palace? I know this place inside and out—how about I show you around?”
Linley feigned enthusiasm. With a foolhardy dwarf at his side, he could use him as a decoy if needed—a handy way to escape.
But the dwarf eyed him suspiciously. “You really know this place well?”
“Of course!” Linley thumped his chest. He knew dwarves loved making friends; throwing an arm around the dwarf’s shoulder, he said, “Brother, wherever you want to go, I’ll take you.”
The dwarf was middle-aged, and though Linley was only ten, they were nearly the same height. With his arm slung over the dwarf’s shoulder, they really did look like buddies.
“You’re sure you know your way around?” The dwarf was soon convinced, delightedly stroking his beard.
“I want to meet the young elven prince. Do you know where he is?”
Linley paused. “Why do you want to meet him?”
The dwarf’s eyes sparkled. “On our way here, we met some human envoys. They said the young elven prince is really unique—entirely green-skinned! That’s fascinating! I want to see it for myself.”
“….”
“The elf king must have bred with some formidable monster. Before their race is wiped out by others, introducing stronger genes is a wise move—elves are just so lacking in sturdy folk!”
The dwarf was beginning to ramble, so Linley calmly interrupted him.
“It’s gotten cold these past days. The young prince has gone into hibernation. You won’t be seeing him for a while.”
“What, he hibernates?!” The dwarf was shocked. Linley clapped him firmly on the shoulder. “Enough about him—let’s go explore elsewhere! So, where do you want to go?”
“Wait, wait!”
The dwarf winced from the slaps. “Brother, you’re strong!”
He pulled a compass-like device from his pocket. “Well, if the young prince is hibernating, let’s go treasure hunting instead. I brought my pickaxe.”
Only then did Linley notice the dwarf was carrying a pickaxe. So he wasn’t just here to look around—he wanted to dig up treasures! Dwarves were renowned for treasure hunting, but there was no way the elven palace would let him dig as he pleased.
“Give that to me!”
Linley snatched the pickaxe. “I’m stronger—I’ll dig!”
This was too interesting; he’d never gone treasure hunting before!
“So where’s the treasure?” Linley feigned even more excitement than the dwarf. The dwarf stared at him for a long moment, then burst out laughing. “Brother, I like you! Do you like drinking?”
“Never tried, but I love eating! Do you know about rabbit-mice? I had one yesterday—delicious beyond words…”
“Seriously?”
“Absolutely! Even tastier than those winged snakes…”
“You’ve eaten eagle-snakes?!”
The dwarf exclaimed, and as they searched for treasure, he and Linley chatted away as if they’d known each other forever.
“This brother can eat anything—he must be a true gourmet. If I brought some liquor and went adventuring with him, I’d have the time of my life!” thought the dwarf, all the while busily seeking treasure. Soon, he’d found the spot.
“You’re sure it’s here?”
But when they arrived, Linley looked dubious—the location was just a corner of the palace gardens, nothing there but a flowerbed.
“Definitely here!” The dwarf flushed with pride. “My treasure-seeker never fails. Dig here and you’ll find something!”
Linley began digging, skeptical. In less than a minute, he unearthed a battered old box.
“See!” The dwarf beamed. “Told you I was right!”
Linley picked up the box. It looked like an ordinary iron container—not the hiding place for any treasure.
He opened it. Inside were only three things: two slips of paper and a music box.
Linley opened the music box, which played the voices of two little girls singing. But the box had rusted with age—the song was interrupted and faint, impossible to make out.
“It’s just a child’s toy,” he scoffed.
The dwarf’s face turned crimson with indignation. “Impossible! I always find treasures!”
He snatched the music box, turning it over and over, but it truly was just a child’s toy—no trace of magic at all.
Linley picked up the two slips of paper. The handwriting on the first was elegant: *I wish I could have a little brother.*
“This handwriting looks familiar,” Linley muttered. He opened the second slip, the writing much more raw, as if the writer had only just learned how to form letters: *I wish I could be with my sister forever.*
“….”
Linley scratched his head. Strange—wasn’t this a time capsule? Which family’s children had buried one in the palace garden?
He hadn’t written these, and there weren’t any sisters in the palace, as far as he knew.
Finding nothing of value, Linley and the dwarf buried the box again and continued their search for other treasures.
“Let’s hope the next one isn’t a toy.”
“Don’t worry, brother, that was just a fluke! Next time, it’ll be the real deal!”
“By the way, what’s your name?”
“Bear Grylls.”
“…I’ll just call you Bear from now on. You have the makings of a gourmet.”
“Really, brother?”