There's No Minimum Drinking Age in Fantasy

Sam got in a little over her head, but her work on slaying the remaining slimes went smooth as silk. The warrior Princess still needed me there to give feedback and correct her mistakes, but I'd generally say she didn't give me much to worry about.

It only took a little under a half-hour before Sam defeated out the rest of her quest's targets. While five Slimes is absolutely nothing to be proud of and won't even buy someone a decent dinner, it's still better than coming home empty-handed. Besides, as far as I'm concerned, just knowing this young adventurer isn't a lost cause is worth celebrating in my book.

All in all, not too bad for her first day on the job.

The mood on the return trip was pleasant and jovial. Sam went on about how awesome she was, how awesome I was, how awesome WE were, and she even sprinkled a few more 'Daddy' mentions here and there to tease me. Still not sure how I feel about that... although perhaps I'm lying to myself because I just don't like the answer.

I try my best to ignore her teasing because other than that, the mood between us is good. It's been a long time since I've enjoyed someone else's company, let alone someone as bright and playful as Sam.

There are still so many things I don't know about her, sure. I have no idea why I'm able to look at her painlessly without my glasses, and I haven't the faintest clue why she left Imperalis to take up the life of an adventurer. For the time being, though, it doesn't look like she's going to be leaving any time soon...

I think I can live with that.

The two of us soon return to my rundown hovel, which barely qualifies as a Guild. Although it might just be me, the place feels a little less shitty than when I left it. Perhaps the satisfaction of a job well done makes the sight of home that much more comforting?

"Come on up to the desk, Sam. Or whatever's left of it, anyway."

"Er, yeah, sure thing!" The young warrior takes her sword out of her sling and looks around for a place to put it.

"There are several storage rooms in the east wing," I tell her as I bend down to rifle through the destroyed counter.

"Sweet, thanks!" Sam drops it off and runs back to see me pulling out a little satchel with the Association of Adventurer's Logo on it.

"Slime cores, please? I'll need to mail them to the association for reimbursement."

"Ok... Is that how this works?" Sam tilts her head, confused. She hands me her bag of kill trophies, and I take it gratefully.

"This was a generic Association quest, meaning there was no real client. No worries, all it means is I'll pay you your share from the Guild's vault, and the Association will reimburse me as well as add a handlers fee on top of it." I leave out the boring explanation of how the Association gets paid in situations like this since it doesn't seem like it'd interest her. The gist of it is that the provincial Dukes reimburse them, who reimburse me.

Bureaucracy.

The definitely not a Princess nods her head, following along. "I think I get it..."

"Good. Give me just a moment, then. I'll go and get your payment,"

Sam reaches out and pulls my hand towards her, stopping me from leaving. "You don't gotta do that, Boss." Her eyes are determined to stop me, leaving me greatly confused. "I kinda already owe you for the desk... and the door... and the table... not to mention you spent time out of your day to watch over my dumb ass, y'know?" Smiling, blush fills her cheek as the young girl scratches the back of her head.

"Oh," I look away, dumbfounded. "You really don't need to worry about that. I'm sure I can afford some repairs after you kill more slimes and I rack up more handling fees. You might have done a sloppy job, Sam, but you did a job nonetheless. The gold is yours."

Her strong, gloved hands squeeze mine even harder. "I'm serious, Boss. I. Don't. Want. It. All I want is a place to stay and some food." She bites her lip and looks away, "You've already done so much for me... Daddy." Sam whispers.

Enough is enough, and I pull away from the young Princess. "Why do you insist on calling me that? A man can only take so much, you know!"

A mischievous grin appears on her face as she takes a step closer towards me past the wreckage of my desk. Sam grabs me by the collar of my dress shirt, pulling so close that our lips almost touch. For a moment, I almost think she's about to kiss me, but the girl instead drags my ear to her lips and says in a low, sultry drawl, "Because you're cute when I get you all flustered. Do I need any other reason, dummy?" She giggles as she lets go, dropping her seductive tone and returning to a tomboyish cadence.

"...If you're worried that I'm going to throw you out if you don't give me a reason to keep you around, don't be. I'm not that kind of person. You don't need to pretend that I'm your type or anything just because you're-"

She looks over her shoulder, raising one eyebrow and blushing. "...Dude, it's not like that. I seriously just think you're cute. That's all." Sam has a frown on her face, now bringing out a feeling of guilt from the pit of my stomach.

"I... see." I'll be the first one to admit I'm not used to playing the sort of games that women play, so I cough and adjust my glasses.

Her emerald gaze lingers upon me until I see a toothy grin spread across her cheeks. All at once, I feel like her favorite toy, a toy that she's intent on playing with until there's no more fun to be had. The young Princess plops down on the nearest dining table and smiles straight at me, yawning and stretching in a way that shows off her ample cleavage.

"Boss, I'm fuckin' starving. What's a girl gotta do to get some dinner around here?" To continue this little game of hers, the girl places the tip of her finger atop the bottom of her pink, plush lower lip. This, coupled with her inviting eyes, beckons me harder than I've ever been beckoned.

"You've already earned your keep. Although my supplies are rather low, I can cook something up for us both. I've become used to dining alone, so I apologize in advance if it's not up to your usual standards..."

A slight sweat breaks out on her brow as she looks away. "What do you mean by that, Boss? I, uh... eat peasant food all the time. Yup."

"Indeed," Voicing my doubts with obvious facetiousness, I begin making my way to the Guild's kitchen.

Before I duck into the room, Sam calls out to me, "Would it be lame if I asked if you had any sausage?"

"Unbelievably so."

She giggles at her own joke, and I remove myself from her presence. The familiar sight of my kitchen is the only reprieve I'll have from the cheeky adventurer for a few hours, so I intend on making the most of it. Things will only get more awkward from here on out, mainly as we discuss bedding arrangements.

Putting aside that problem for the future, I absorb myself into my craft. Back during my grandpa's day, we had several live-in chefs to feed our roster of adventurers, but they only stayed for a few years after his death. Cooking was just one of the many skills I forced myself to learn while trying to run an Adventurer's Guild. While I wouldn't call myself a master chef, I'm certainly no slouch.

In no time at all, I prepare for Her Highness a very light, cheap meal consisting of toast, seasoned eggs, and two moderately sized haunches of salted meat sprinkled with grated cheese. I whip out two wooden tankards out and set to work mixing up a set of cocktails for the finishing touch.

I'm not trying to impress the girl or anything, surely... I could just really use a stiff drink right about now.

Bartending is yet another skill I picked up over the years, and transitioning into a depressive shut-in only honed that craft, I'm sad to say. It's been a while since I've shared a drink with anyone... let alone a pretty girl.

For myself, I mix myself a traditional classic known as the Olden Days. A pinch of sugar, a splash of bitters, heavy on the vodka. Add just the slightest hint of bottled pixie tears for a melancholic aftertaste that helps one remember the times gone by.

For my guest, I mix something sweet yet hard. Sam seems like the type of girl who'd enjoy a drink along those lines. After mulling over the possible choices, I decide. It's got to be a Dragon's Burst.

Starting with some dark cinnamon fire rum, I mix in some admittedly expensive Dwarven sugar crystals and a dash of ginger to really bring out the subtle contrast between flavors. She'll get a kick out of this, I'm sure.

After watching myself slave over Sam's cocktail like this, I find it harder to admit I'm not trying to impress her. Trying to shake this creeping feeling out from under me, I pile the meal and the drinks back into the entrance hall and serve dinner to Sam.

"I regret to inform the young lady that there was not a single sausage to be found," I say as the young blonde eyes up her meal, licking her lips and gaping without a hint of nobility.

"Normally, I'd make a joke about helping you find some sausage, but damn, this shit's so tasty looking it's throwing me off my game!" She doesn't even wait for me to pass the utensils. Sam just grabs them herself and digs in. Her eyes open wide at the first bite, and she starts scarfing down the meal like she'd never encountered food before.

"Holy SHIT," she says with a mouth full of dinner. "This is... so... mng... GOOD!"

I blush upon receiving such a compliment while averting my eyes from her disgusting table manners. "Thank you, It's... nothing special, really."

Sam finishes a deep bite and burps. "Well, y'know I've been eating bread, cheese, and jerky the entire journey from Perlshaw to here, so..."

"Ah, that'd do it." I've never been on any long journeys before in my life, but I don't know if I could handle the lack of good food on the road.

"No, no! This shit's good even besides that!" Her eyes sparkle with adorable, genuine enthusiasm. I had forgotten gratifying it can feel when someone enjoys your cooking.

"Make sure you let me know how you find your drink," I remind her, noticing she's yet to touch her cocktail.

"What is it?" Sam brings it to her nostril and sniffs. Her eyes go watery from the drink's fizzing vapor, and she rubs them, "Gah! Fuckin' spicy-"

"It's a cocktail I mixed for you. Ever heard of a Dragon's Burst?"

She raises an eyebrow once again and smiles inappropriately. "Nope. Did ya spike it with something, perv?"

"Gods, Sam! I would never-"

Sam slaps her knee while drinking half the glass in one go. "I know, I know! You're a good guy, Boss." She licks her lips and exhales a deep sigh of contentment, pushing her plate away. "Thanks for dinner, especially the booze!"

"Although I'm surprised it was to your liking, I'm happy nonetheless."

"Not only are you a kick-ass chef, but you make a mean drink. Is there anything you aren't good at, Boss?"

My negativity rears its ugly head, and I immediately answer, "Running a guild, apparently..." Sam makes an ashamed face, worried she set me off. I rush to correct my mistake and smile, saying, "It was only a jest. Thank you for the compliment, Sam."

"Heh, no big deal. I'm really looking forward to staying here if it means I get to eat like this from now on!" When she says that, an unknown fountain of happiness bursts in my heart. "Bet you're looking forward to getting to have dinner with a cute girl like me every night, huh, Boss?"

I smile politely, trying to hold back the fluttering in my heart. "I think I could get used to it, sure."