Chapter 159: Her Husbands Weren’t the Ones Setting the Price

Dove crossed out the kitchen claim while they waited for Iris to return. She could discuss a bad offer without carrying it around as though she had accepted it.

"Do you want me to read it before we go?" Edrik asked, watching her underline the change.

"Only if you can do it without stabbing the paper."

"I was thinking of the person who wrote it."

She looked up. He smiled into his coffee, perfectly calm, and she decided to keep the pen where she could find it. Some problems genuinely did need writing down before anyone started threatening the furniture.

They had already washed, eaten, and finished a short lesson before Iris arrived. Now Dove checked the shop sign and the bag they would take. The meal-container goal was six packs for fifty normal coins. Iris had bought the first packs, and Dove would finish selling when they returned. She returned the sample, then packed the empty storefront. The rental stayed locked behind them.

She asked Sprout to save the meal-box measurements for comparison. They held individual portions; Iris needed insulated carriers for whole trays. Dove wanted to see one before agreeing to find four, preferably without a man insisting that all boxes looked alike.

Iris’s car took them from Base B along an ordinary city street, past a laundromat, a shuttered dentist, and several repair shops. Water stood near a clogged curb outside the commerce district. Closer to Base A, the drains were clear, the streetlights worked, and people had enough power to run fans with their windows shut.

Dove looked at a woman watering plants on a shaded porch and felt a sharp, unreasonable envy. She did not want the woman’s life. She wanted the casual certainty that water would still be there after the plants had enough.

Thorne noticed her looking and found her hand on the seat. He followed her gaze to the porch, then squeezed her fingers. She leaned against his shoulder; she could want the running water without wanting to leave him for the man who owned it.

The visitor checkpoint stood beside a school parking lot. Iris showed their names, the appointment, and the return arrangement. A guard checked the car and their bags before letting them through.

He returned the papers to Dove when she held out her hand, then checked the visitor names against the list rather than assuming her husbands spoke for her. She appreciated the ordinary process more than she expected. Dove asked where they would leave if the visit ended early, and he pointed to the same gate.

The school cafeteria had become a meal preparation center. Stainless counters ran along the kitchen wall, while folding tables filled the dining area. Workers moved loaded trays through a side door to waiting delivery vehicles. Dove could see why Iris needed reliable carriers. Hot food crossing several buildings in warm weather was not a problem solved by saying everyone should eat faster.

The purchasing officer met them beside a stack of damaged boxes. He greeted Iris, looked at Dove long enough to lose his prepared opening, then addressed Edrik about the work.

Dove moved her marked paper onto the table between them. "I’m the person you’re buying from. You can start with the sentence I crossed out."

The man blinked. Edrik rested a hand on the back of her chair without answering for her. Thorne stood beside the sample carriers, looking at the fittings.

"It’s standard language," the officer said.

"Then you’ve been sending out a standard bad offer. Four carriers aren’t every pot in a hotel kitchen."

Iris nodded toward the page. "We discussed carriers. Nothing else."

Dove inspected the equipment before continuing the argument. One metal clasp had bent and could probably be reshaped. Another carrier had cracked insulation and a broken inner liner. Thorne could help with the clasp; neither husband could restore the ruined box by laying a hand on it.

She asked a kitchen worker to show her how the trays fitted. He explained the sizes and why a tight lid mattered, and she thanked him before writing down the actual measurements. Knowing what a customer meant saved time. Letting the loudest man explain everything did not.

The officer tried offering regular district access if she sold only to him. She had heard the same thing from the fan buyer back in B, and it was no prettier in a school cafeteria. Dove asked what quantities he intended to guarantee buying and whether he would pay when her stock changed. He started talking about who she might meet. Apparently nobody on that fascinating list had agreed to buy anything.

"Then we’ll start with one order," she said. "Four sound carriers if they’re available, payment agreed before I leave, and no claim on anything else we trade for."

He looked toward her husbands again. Edrik’s pleasant expression did not change.

"She’s waiting for your answer," he said.

Dove felt a small, ridiculous thrill at the quiet certainty of it. He could make a room uncomfortable without stealing her place in it, and she wanted to kiss him for that later, somewhere without an audience of food-service workers.

Thorne brought her a large sandwich while Iris and the officer checked the proposed payment. He set it down without announcing that she had forgotten to eat, which spared her the need to argue about being cared for.

"You looked ready to bite somebody," he murmured.

"I still might. This is just to keep my strength up."

His smile came easier than yesterday’s. Dove touched his wrist before he moved away, glad for the ordinary little exchange without needing it to mean his worry had vanished.

The officer finally agreed to discuss the narrow order. Iris took Dove toward the kitchen office to show her older event photographs that included the carriers in use.

Dove checked the tray sizes, then stopped at the edge of one picture. Behind the hotel stood a refrigerated trailer, big enough to hold far more food than her little chest at home.

She stared at it for a moment too long.

Iris followed her gaze. "I don’t know if it’s still there."

Dove knew she should hear that part first. Unfortunately, her brain had already filled it with cold fruit, proper groceries, and a beautiful amount of room.