Camilla chomps down on her steak, uncaring about the stares some other elven women are giving her. She’s chewing and speaking without a worry in the world.

“So, you are surprised by us Elves? You imagined we would be… what’s the term you used?”

“Aloof?” I volunteer.

She snorts some of the water she was drinking through her nose.

“Oh God,” she laughs, “sorry about that. Yeah, no. That’s the humans. Elves are pretty easy-going. Have you been living under a rock all this time?”

I slowly chew my own rare steak and ponder. You would be surprised by how good it is, especially considering we imagine Elves as Nazi-vegans.

“Well, I’ve come here by chance. I come from very, very far away. And I can’t really go back. I think.”

Nah, I’m fairly sure I’m stuck here forever.

Camilla slows down her ravenous jaws for a second and cleans her mouth with a handkerchief. She looks a bit sadder now, and much more serious.

“Care to tell me that story?”

It makes me extremely uncomfortable to talk about this stuff. Honestly, I’ve been doing pretty well in the—

“It makes me extremely uncomfortable to talk about this stuff,” I say, choosing to voice my thoughts for once, “I’ve been doing pretty well here. I can’t really say I’m unlucky, but at the same time, I feel… anxious. I feel like everything could come crashing down on me at any moment.”

“When I opened the bakery, my sisters didn’t work for me. I didn’t have any money to hire people and I could barely afford the equipment. I wanted to put my head in a piss bucket and drown myself.”

This time, it’s my turn to snort water from my nose.

That cheered me up a little.

“If you need help jumping off a cliff, just tell me.”

Camilla winks at me and resumes eating her steak.

“Yeah, I get the feeling. But I have to say, the piss-bucket does sound more original. I want to do something that puts my heart at ease, you know. I’m not interested in adventuring, risking my life, or even pushing to become the biggest baker in existence. I want to bake my stuff, sell it, make some money, go eat a steak with a friend.”

Camilla looks at the table for a second before raising her eyes up at me. She had been bouncing her leg up and down all night, this energetic young woman. And now, her stare was poking holes in my very soul.

“You are a bit off, aren’t you?”

The question comes out of the blue.

“What do you mean?”

“I asked Lucinda when she first came to us. She told me you were the most energetic and weird idiot she had ever known. There was admiration in her voice. And everyone knows Lucinda, she’s like a chosen in this city. If someone has a shot at that archmagery business, it’s her. Why would a future [Archmage] be impressed with…?”

She points accusingly at me, waggling her finger up and down. Camilla’s taking a brief pause to chew her food, unexpectedly. But I feel like it’s more to stare at me and to think; in fact, I dare not interrupt the flow of the thoughts she’s brewing.

She finally rests down her condemning finger.

“Flirty, smart, bright. Always a good answer in his quiver. That’s what Lucinda told me, basically. And there you are, instead, a sad piece of Human.”

I mean, it’s true.

I can’t really deny that I’m still extremely put down.

“I had a crush on Lucinda.”

Past tense.

I think.

I want to believe.

“In the past tense, apparently.”

“Yeah. It’s just that she’s a bit too mean for me. I was talking about homeless people. Being a baker, making some extra food is no bother for me. And if I can give some out, I usually do. And don’t get me wrong: I’m no saint. But I care and I act on it, sometimes.”

We are not close friends, but I barely have anyone to talk to in this world. I’m giving her a curt version of the story when she interrupts me.

“Let me guess, she said homeless people are stupid idiots who could just go find a job,” Camilla said with some hilarity in her eyes.

I nod and shrug.

“So, you wanted to seduce a heartless nutjob whose biggest fetish is learning new spells and crushing others with her wit and power, right?”

I stare at Camilla, not that amused.

“Then, said nutjob behaves like the nutjob she is, and you are surprised? Ha! I swear, HUMANS,” she’s laughing so hard that the server comes to our table and kindly asks to tone it down.

“Oh, Joey, you are killing me.”

She’s all red and can barely breathe.

I could have mustered up a lot of jokes about that if I had been in the right mood.

“I’m glad my pain is making your dinner so enjoyable.”

I’m not bitter, but neither that enthused.

She keeps laughing, hard, and she even bangs her hand on the table.

“Oh, for all the rotten muffins and cupcakes. You are all sad and pouty because the nutjob said something mean! Joey, please, don’t look at me like that, I’m suffocating!”

“Man,” Camilla is now taking deep breaths and giggling in between. “You would be so foolish as to ask my sister Amelia to help you look after a puppy on the street. And then you would be surprised when she drowned you and the puppy, stole all your money and recipes with some necromantic magic, and made a bag out of the puppy.”

“Your sister knows necromantic magic?”

“Nah, but she’s probably a witch. Or a bitch. Almost homophone, aren’t they?” she snorts.

I snort as well.

“Man, you are something, aren’t you?” I start laughing too, the more I think about the absurdity of my situation and Camilla’s words.

“What’s the next item on your list, getting Clodia to fall in love with you? Or you know what, why don’t you go and jump off the walls of the city, maybe you’ll learn how to fly!”

I narrow my eyes, even if I’m still laughing.

It’s time for the old bag of tricks to do its work.

Camilla, be ready, because Joey Luciani is going to pull his moves now, you little brat!