The evening wore on while the butcher worked without pause.
The courtyard behind his shop hummed with steady labor. Knives rose and fell while strips of meat disappeared into barrels of coarse salt before going to the smokehouse behind the building. The scent of meat gave way to woodsmoke drifting above the rooftops.
Eren remained nearby, lending a hand whenever another pair of arms was needed. Between trips, she watched the butcher scrape the Jursen's hide clean, drawing a broad knife beneath the leather to remove the last scraps of fat.
He inspected his work before reaching for a sack against the wall. "You'll want salt on this too."
Eren looked over. "The hide?"
The butcher nodded, working a handful into the flesh side. "It slows the rot until you can sell it. Keeps the leather from turning before a proper tanner gets hold of it. Makes the journey easier."
"I'll remember that."
He smiled faintly. "Every beast has a way of reminding you what you forgot to learn."
Eren found herself smiling in return. "I imagine you've had a few of those."
"Enough to fill a wagon."
Their conversation paused as another villager approached the yard carrying two wooden bowls from the tavern. She offered one to Eren. "For your supper."
"...Thank you."
Only after accepting it did Eren notice the second bowl still resting in the woman's hands.
The villager looked past her toward the street. "Where's your companion? I haven't seen him since you arrived."
Eren followed her gaze before lowering her eyes to the stew. "Her. My companion's a woman."
"Oh."
She waited, expecting the rest of the answer.
Eren said quietly, "She isn't allowed into town."
The woman's expression changed. "...I see."
There was no argument, no surprise, and no apology. She merely adjusted the second bowl in her hands. "I'll... see to something else, then."
She turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd gathering outside the yard.
Eren watched her go. The exchange had lasted only a few breaths, yet it lingered. Nearby, the butcher continued rubbing salt into the hide as though nothing unusual had been said.
Villagers came and went throughout the evening. Most carried a handful of copper coins, while others brought eggs, sacks of barley, bundles of onions, or whatever else they could spare. The butcher accepted each payment with a nod before weighing another portion of meat across the scale.
No one left empty-handed.
Children darted between adults to catch a glimpse of the remaining cuts before they disappeared behind the block. Older folk spoke of the last time Jursen had been served in Aldaan, each remembering a different year or harvest.
The village possessed little wealth. Its houses were modest, its tools well used, and nearly every purse revealed more copper than silver. Yet as darkness settled over Aldaan, the butcher's yard remained full.
Long after sunset, the smell of roasting Jursen drifted through the village, mingling with woodsmoke and bread. Laughter spilled from the tavern into the streets, and children boasted that they had eaten the finest meat in the kingdom.
Eren sat on an overturned barrel, eating from the bowl in her lap. It was good stew—better than anything she could remember tasting in years.
She wondered whether Shion had managed to find anything to eat beyond the village gate.
By the time the butcher finished for the night, the yard had grown quiet.
Most of the meat had found its way into barrels of salt or the smokehouse behind the shop, leaving only small trimmings upon the chopping block. The butcher gathered them into a wooden bowl before handing it to the same woman who had brought Eren her supper.
"There you are."
She accepted it with a smile. "Thank you." Without another word, she disappeared into the house.
The butcher wiped his hands on his apron and glanced toward the smokehouse, where thin ribbons of smoke drifted into the darkening sky. "The rest's in good order."
Eren looked up.
"It'll take most of the night," he added, nodding toward the smokehouse. "By morning, the meat should be dry enough for the road."
"How long?"
"I'd say twelve hours. Should be enough." He stretched his back, the joints protesting after the day's work. "You ought to get some sleep while you can." He gestured toward the center of the village. "The inn still has rooms, if you don't mind spending the coin."
Eren thanked him with a nod. "I'll think about it."
The butcher seemed satisfied with that answer and returned to tidying his workbench.
Eren remained where she was for a moment. The bowl in her hands was empty now, save for a little broth clinging to the bottom, setting it neatly atop an overturned barrel near the butcher's table. She looked toward the gate.
Shion would be outside. She knew Shion was capable of taking care of herself—after everything over the past weeks, there was little doubt of that. Still, she found herself walking toward the palisade.
The guards recognized her as she stepped through the gate, saying nothing as she continued down the road.
The fire was easy to find. It burned beneath the same broad tree where Shion had settled earlier. A small pot rested beside the embers, and Shion sat with her back against the trunk, feeding a piece of dry wood into the flames as Eren approached.
She looked up. "Back already?"
Eren nodded. "How are you doing?"
"I'm fine." Shion glanced toward the pot. "Made a fire." A faint puff of steam escaped beneath the lid. "Had some food."
Eren looked at the simple meal warming over the coals. "They gave me stew." The words came quietly. "It was... really good."
Shion's expression didn't change. "I'm glad." She nudged another stick into the fire. "It's been a while since you've had something like that."
There wasn't a trace of resentment in her voice, nor disappointment or envy. She sounded pleased.
Eren lowered her eyes. "...I should've brought you some."
Shion shook her head. "You couldn't."
"They would've given me another bowl."
"They might have." Shion watched the flames for a moment. "They also might have asked who it was for."
Silence settled between them, filled easily by the crackling fire. After a while, Shion looked back toward Eren.
"You don't have to feel guilty."
"I know."
"You went inside because someone had to."
Eren managed a small nod. She knew Shion was right.