The drink he was going to make would normally be prepared with a blender. It was actually a form of slushy with crushed ice. The meat mallet wasn’t the best method to break up the ice, but it would work. Getting the pieces of ice to be uniform and small enough would be the main issue with the drink.

  Starting off with fairly small pebble ice made it easier than it would have otherwise been.

  Having Coradine watch the process actually benefited him, as she might be able to even make the ice smaller next time. She had admitted that creating the pebble ice took skill, but she never said how much skill it took, or how much she had.

  After putting the ice in a tightly woven bag, he quickly smashed it and then dumped it into a pitcher. After that, he added the orange juice and evaporated milk. Normally, he would have used actual milk and concentrated orange juice. However, he didn’t have orange juice in concentrated form, and adding more liquid would ruin the drink. Once those were together, he mixed in sugar and vanilla extract.

  That was it, from there, it was a simple matter of adjusting everything to the drinker’s taste. He tended to like it with more vanilla and would add more as such.

  When he was finished, he took a sip and slowly nodded. It wasn’t quite as good as what could be made on Earth. The blender really did make a difference; however, it was still phenomenal.

  He poured some for Coradine and urged her to drink it.

  She glanced from him to the drink, and then with a confused mental shrug took a small sip of the frozen drink. Coradine hadn’t seen him do anything special that would make the drink special. Maybe this was just going to be an ordinary treat?

  That thought was instantly pushed from her mind as a wave of energy flowed into her body. She was so confused. She had watched him make this drink and hadn’t sensed him do anything special. Yet. It contained even more energy than his usual dishes, and it was so good.

  “It’s good,” She admitted after a moment.

  Draden nodded with a slight smile, “There’s another drink I want to make as well that uses ice in a similar manner.”

  “Both of these drinks, I assume they use crushed ice?”

  He nodded again, “Honestly, they’re supposed to use more of a thick snow, or extremely fine crushed ice.”

  Coradine took a few moments to think, and then with some concentration made even smaller pieces of ice. Snow was actually fairly easy to make, but they quickly dismissed it as a viable option since it would melt right away.

  “Hmm, making it this small and uniform could be good training,” She took another appreciative sip. “I don’t think I’ll mind making some fine ice each day if I get to drink this.”

  “Eh, you’ll get sick of it eventually,” He said with a shrug. “That said, I actually have a lot of ideas for other drinks. I just want to make these two first.”

  The drink in question wasn’t on the level that Draden had been hoping for, though that didn’t mean he couldn’t pump it up more if he wanted to. The orange juice and milk had both been normal, and not from Earth. Only the sugar and vanilla had been special.

  The drink was potent, but not overly so.

  If he swapped out everything for Earthly ingredients, then it would possibly be on the level of his almond snack balls.

  The second drink he planned on making though, used an ingredient which he would need to make from scratch. Doing that, he had no doubt, would set the energy content of the drink far above everything else.

  That could wait until the next day.

  He poured out some of the drink for everyone and brought it out to the main area of the restaurant. It was nearing time for the restaurant to open for dinner, and he wanted everyone to enjoy a nice, refreshing drink first.

  Leah and Eowin held the cold glasses in their small hands, their feet swinging happily in the air beneath their chairs.

  Coradine would have been worried about any other little girls drinking Draden’s latest concoction. Not with these two. Leah was a freak of nature, and Eowin was becoming a little odd herself as she grew used to the food and the absurd amount of energy it always contained.

  As it was, Leah took a sip and then squinted her eyes happily, bobbing her head back and forth. Then, she took another sip and groaned. “Oh, Leah’s head is being attacked. Why is the tasty drink mad at her?”

  Eowin tilted her head and then tentatively took her own second sip, only to quickly wince in pain.

  “Ah, yeah, sorry. I forgot to mention, don’t drink it too fast or you’ll get brain freeze.” Draden told them with a soft chuckle, ruffling his daughter’s hair.

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  Coradine chuckled as well as Leah and Eowin clutched their foreheads, their small faces scrunching up in discomfort from the brain freeze.

  Draden knelt in front of the two girls. “Easy now, you two. Sip slowly, let the cold settle before you go for more.” His voice was gentle, carrying the weight of a father who wanted to shield his daughter from even the smallest pains.

  Leah pouted, her green eyes narrowing at the glass in her hand as if it had personally betrayed her. “Leah doesn’t like mean drinks,” She muttered, but her curiosity won out, and she took another cautious sip, this time slower. Eowin followed suit, mimicking her friend’s careful approach, her own eyes wide with fascination at the strange, icy sensation.

  Coradine, still holding her own glass, raised an eyebrow at Draden. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you? First the food, now this drink. I’ve never tasted anything like it.” Her tone was light, but there was an edge of curiosity that hadn’t faded since she’d arrived. She was still trying to puzzle out the source of the energy in his creations, and Draden could practically feel her scrutiny pressing down on him.

  He shrugged, keeping his expression neutral. “Just something I picked up along the way.” He wasn’t about to reveal the truth of his summoning system—not to her, not to anyone. That was personal information for family only.

  The fewer people who knew about it, the better. Ultimately, the lack of information on the ability was part of what was keeping him and Leah safe. This world wasn’t kind to those with unique abilities, especially ones that could shift the balance of power. That was even more true for those who lacked the strength to protect themselves and those they cared about.

  Marcus, who had been quietly observing from a nearby table, leaned forward, his weathered face creasing with a thoughtful frown. “You’re going to have a hard time keeping this place quiet if you keep serving things like this. Word’s already spreading about the food. This?” He gestured to the slushy in his hand. “This’ll bring cultivators from across the region. You ready for that kind of attention?”

  Draden’s stomach tightened at the thought. That was a hard question to answer. Attention was a good thing for a restaurant; at the same time, too much could be a bad thing. Not until he was stronger, not until he could protect Leah and go after Lorna.

  He forced a casual smile, though his mind was racing. “I’ll manage somehow, but it doesn’t matter anyway. These drinks aren’t for the customers.” No matter what he said, the city lord’s earlier demand still lingered in his thoughts, a reminder that power in this world was earned.

  He hadn’t earned his power yet and was still injured, even.

  Before anyone could press further, the front door of the restaurant swung open, the bell above it jangling sharply. Emilie and Alice, who had been waxing down the tables, froze as a tall figure stepped inside. The man was broad-shouldered, clad in a dark cloak that did little to hide the glint of armor beneath. His face was partially obscured by a hood, but the way he carried himself—confident, almost predatory—set Draden’s nerves on edge. This wasn’t a casual patron looking for a meal.

  Leah, oblivious to the tension, waved cheerfully. “Hi, mister! Are you here for daddy’s food?”

  The man’s head tilted slightly, his gaze settling on Leah for a moment before shifting to Draden. “Draden Varsk?” His voice was low, gravelly, and carried an authority that made the air feel heavier.

  Draden stepped forward, positioning himself between the stranger and Leah. His hand searching for the missing hilt of the sword that had once hung at his waist, a habit from his mercenary days that didn’t fit his image as a chef and restaurant owner. “That’s me. The restaurant’s not open yet. You’ll have to come back in an hour.”

  The man didn’t move. “I’m not here for food. My employer wishes to speak with you. Immediately.” The way he emphasized the last word left no room for negotiation.

  Coradine stood, her posture deceptively relaxed, but Draden caught the faint shimmer of magic gathering around her hands. Marcus too shifted in his seat, his eyes narrowing. The atmosphere in the room had shifted, the earlier warmth replaced by a crackling tension.

  Draden’s jaw tightened. He was tired of demands, tired of people thinking they could summon him like a servant. “If your employer wants to talk, they can come here. I don’t leave my daughter to chase after strangers.”

  The man’s eyes glinted beneath his hood, and for a moment, Draden thought he might draw a weapon. Instead, he reached into his cloak and pulled out a small, sealed scroll. “This is from Lord Tavian. He insists on your presence at his estate by nightfall. Refusal would be… unwise.” He tossed the scroll onto a nearby table and turned to leave, his cloak swirling behind him.

  As the door closed, Draden exhaled. He picked up the scroll, breaking the wax seal with a flick of his thumb. The message inside was brief, written in a sharp, elegant script.

  ‘Draden Varsk, your talents have come to my attention. I require your services for a matter of utmost importance. Present yourself at my estate by sundown. Bring no one. Tell no one. Discretion is paramount.’

  It was signed with a flourish; ‘Lord Tavian of House Varnel’.

  Draden sat down heavily and passed the scroll to Marcus. House Varnel was no minor noble family, and in some ways had more power than Macron. They were one of the ruling powers in the region. However, unlike the City Lord, they maintained better ties with the cultivator sects and possessed enough wealth a large portion of the city. If Tavian was reaching out, it wasn’t for a friendly chat. And the secrecy demanded in the note only made it worse.

  Coradine peered over Marcus’ shoulder, her expression darkening as she read the message. “Tavian Varnel. That’s trouble you don’t need.”

  “You know him?” Draden asked as Marcus passed the message back to him. He twisted the scroll tighter and tucked it into his pocket.

  “By reputation.” Coradine’s voice was grim. “He’s ambitious, ruthless, and has a knack for collecting people with unique skills. If he’s calling for you, it’s because he’s heard about your food—and what it can do.”

  Marcus grunted, crossing his arms. “He’s not wrong to want you. Food that heals, strengthens meridians, and boosts qi? That’s the kind of thing that can tip the scales in a power struggle. You’re a walking treasure, Draden, whether you like it or not.”

  Draden had always known his food would draw attention, but he hadn’t expected it to happen so fast. He had really screwed up when he invited Mirna to the restaurant’s opening. How was he supposed to know that she was the City Lord’s daughter? There had never been any hints before then that she was the daughter of someone so important.

  He glanced at Leah, who was now giggling with Eowin as they tried to sculpt their slushie drinks into different shapes with their spoons. His heart ached at the thought of her being caught up in whatever game Tavian was playing.

  “I’m not going,” Draden said firmly. “I don’t care who he is. I’m not leaving Leah, and I’m not getting tangled up in some noble’s schemes.”

  (The recipe I use in this chapter can be found on my Patreon for free.)

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