Chapter 226 — The Better Way to Eat It

Ren returned with the answer before Nia decided whether she was annoyed by how often she had checked the two remaining goldhearts.

They had spent three days on the cooler shelf in the same shallow bowl. Their shells had darkened slightly from green toward a muddier shade, though neither had softened enough for Nia to decide whether that meant anything. She had smelled them that morning, turned each fruit once to check the underside, and left them alone.

Shen noticed when she looked toward the shelf again after their midday meal.

“That is the second time since we ate.”

Nia glanced over her shoulder. He was slicing dried meat into narrow pieces for the evening broth, his white hair tied neatly away from his hands. “I'm checking for spoilage.”

“You checked before breakfast.”

“I can be thorough.”

“You can.”

The faint movement at the corner of his mouth told her how convincing he found that answer. Nia folded her arms.

“Fine. I want to know if Ren found the carrier.”

Shen transferred the finished meat into a bowl instead of commenting further.

Footsteps crossed the upper passage outside. Someone called down toward the lower turn about a missing carrying strap, and another voice answered that the strap had gone with the clay load. The argument continued farther down the passage while another set of steps approached their entrance.

Ren appeared with road dust on his boots and the lower edge of his trousers. His dark-red hair had been tied back, though several shorter strands had escaped near his temples, and his travel ledger rested beneath one arm.

Nia's attention went straight to it.

Ren's fox ears shifted toward her. “I see what you missed most.”

“Did you find him?”

His smirk widened enough to answer before he did.

Nia crossed the room and caught the front of his tunic. She kissed him before he could make her wait for the words.

His free hand settled naturally at her waist. When she drew away, the smirk took another moment to return fully.

Shen had stopped cutting by then. “You found the carrier.”

“I did.” Ren looked toward the cooler shelf. “And I assume those two have been checked more than once.”

Nia took his wrist and steered him toward the washing side. “Tell me after you wash.”

Ren went without argument. He set his travel ledger on the dry shelf near the entrance while Nia washed beside him, clearing the road dust from her hands after greeting him. Only then did she bring the shallow bowl with both goldhearts to the preparation surface.

Shen moved the dried meat away from the test area, washed the knife he had been using, and cleaned his hands before joining them.

Ren dried his fingers. “The reed-country carrier remembered the fruit and the seller. Apparently the seller accepted the goldhearts first and asked how to open them afterward.”

“That sounds right,” Nia said.

“He had two more with him, so I watched him open one instead of relying on another explanation.”

Nia picked up the darker of their two remaining fruits and turned it under the light. “Start there.”

“The dull shell is only the first sign. The seller remembered that much correctly. The second is the stem.” Ren pointed without touching. “The carrier turns it gently before opening anything. If it stays tight, the fruit needs more time.”

Nia tested the dried stem between her fingertips. It shifted slightly, and Shen came closer to see how much it moved.

“Check the other one,” he said.

The second fruit's stem barely moved at all. Nia returned it to the shallow bowl and kept the first in front of her.

“One is ready enough to try. The other isn't.”

Ren nodded. “That matches what he showed me.”

“What about the white layer?” Shen asked.

“He called it milk-rind. They throw it away. He said it is not dangerous, but the liquid is bitter enough that they keep it off the flesh and wash their hands if they get any on them.”

Nia remembered the milky streak along the knife from their first attempt. “That explains why everything near the cut tasted so bad.”

“It also explains why he laughed when I told him we cut through it. He said people who have never seen one opened usually do the same thing.”

Nia gave Ren a narrow look.

“Once the stem comes free,” Ren continued, “he presses two ribs near the top. If the fruit is ripe, the shell opens along its own seams. He uses a cloth to pull the shell back, lifts the gold sections from the center, and eats them immediately. I watched him eat the first section as soon as he removed it. No soaking, cooking, washing, or anything else first.”

“Good.” Nia touched the loosened stem again. “Then if this one still tastes wrong, we know the problem is either ripeness or our handling.”

Shen brought a clean cloth and set a small stack of tasting spoons within reach. Nia placed a waste bowl at the washing side for the rind and anything bitter they rejected.

She wrapped the cloth around the dried stem and began to turn it. The first half-turn resisted before the stem loosened and a small cap of green shell lifted with it. Beneath the opening, the pale milk-rind remained intact and dry.

Nia dropped the cap into the waste bowl and adjusted her grip. “Here?”

Ren showed her where the carrier had placed his hands.

She pressed two opposite ribs near the top. When the shell did not move, she increased the pressure gradually until a low crack came from beneath her fingers and a seam opened between the ribs without splitting through the pale inner layer.

“There,” Shen said quietly.

Nia shifted her hands and pressed the neighboring ribs. The opening widened, and the hard green shell separated into thick sections around the center. The milk-rind remained attached inside the shell while the golden flesh sat intact around a lighter core, untouched by the white liquid that had spread through their first attempt.

The scent was still sweet and floral, but this time the dry green bitterness remained strongest near the shell.

Shen leaned closer to smell near the opening. “The bitter scent is staying at the rind.”

“That fits what he told you.” Nia looked at Ren. “He pulled these shell sections back with the cloth?”

“Yes. Then he lifted the flesh from the center.”

Nia used the cloth to fold one shell section farther outward. One golden section had loosened near the center, and she caught its inner edge between clean fingertips. It separated without resistance.

The dark flat seed showed through the translucent gold flesh. The outer side was dry, with no milky residue clinging to it.

Nia set the section in a small clean bowl and used one of the tasting spoons to take a piece from its thick center. She smelled it once before putting it into her mouth.

The flesh yielded almost immediately beneath her teeth. It was richer than rainpear, sweeter than most of the spring fruit around Hearthfang, with a faint floral note and a soft, almost creamy finish near the seed.

No bitterness followed.

Nia's ears rose as she swallowed.

Ren watched her closely. “Better?”

“Much.”

She used a fresh spoon for another small taste from the same section. The second bite confirmed the first.

Shen took a clean spoon and sampled from the thick center. He chewed slowly, his attention turning inward the way it did whenever he was separating flavors.

“The bitterness is gone,” he said. “The texture is softer than I expected.”

“Almost creamy.”

Ren took his own clean spoon from the stack. “I would like my second taste to replace the first.”

Nia turned the bowl toward him.

He tasted from the center. His fox ears remained upright as he chewed, which pleased Nia almost as much as the fruit itself.

“You look happier this time,” she said.

“I was right about the first one,” Ren said as he set his spoon with the used ones. “This one is better.”

With the shell folded back, Nia could see how each gold section connected around the center and how closely the outer surface rested against the milk-rind. She lifted a second section free by its inner edge and set it beside the first.

“The cut ruined the first one,” she said. “But not by itself.”

She glanced toward the second unopened goldheart.

Ren followed her gaze. “The carrier said one opened too early can still stay bitter even if the milk-rind never leaks.”

“So we had two bad variables at once.”

Shen looked toward the tight-stemmed fruit. “Then leave that one until the stem loosens.”

Nia nodded and took a fresh spoon to sample a tiny piece from the outer edge of the second gold section, where the flesh had rested directly against the milk-rind. A faint bitterness remained there—not enough to overwhelm the fruit, but enough that she noticed it immediately.

“This part still has some.”

Shen used another fresh spoon on the same rind-side edge and agreed.

Nia studied the boundary between the gold flesh and the pale layer still attached to the shell. Using the edge of a clean spoon, she removed the thinnest outer strip that had rested against the milk-rind and dropped it into the waste bowl. A fresh spoonful from the newly exposed flesh tasted sweet again.

“So we trim only the part that sat directly against the milk-rind,” she said. “Not the whole outside. And I don't want to rinse the flesh unless we actually get the white liquid on it. Water would take some of the scent with it.”

Nia lifted the next section free and showed Shen the line she wanted removed. “About this much.”

Shen took another clean spoon and scraped away the rind-side strip she had marked, then placed the trimmed flesh in the clean bowl.

Nia checked the piece before moving to the next section. “Yes. Look at each one first. Some sit closer to the pale layer than others.”

They worked through the remaining sections that way. Nia lifted each piece and decided how much of the rind-side edge needed to come away. Sometimes she trimmed it herself; on the others, she marked the line for Shen, and he used a clean spoon to follow it while keeping the shell folded back with the cloth.

Ren stayed at the far side of the preparation surface, watching the bowl slowly fill.

“You found a way to make them worth carrying uphill.”

“This one was worth it,” Nia said. She glanced at the unopened goldheart. “We'll find out about the last one when its stem loosens.”

When the final section was clean, she took one last fresh spoon and tasted from the bowl. The flavor remained sweet, floral, and soft without the bitter layer interfering.

She covered the bowl with a clean cloth.

Shen reached toward it, and Nia shifted the bowl out of range.

“Leave some for Kael.”

His hand stopped at once.

Ren glanced toward the entrance. “Is he expected back soon?”

“Before evening if the lower route stays quiet.”

Nia returned the shallow bowl with the unopened goldheart to the cooler shelf, then set the covered bowl of prepared flesh beside it.

“There is enough for Kael to try,” she said. “Anything beyond his portion is fair.”

Ren's tail moved once behind him as Nia returned to the preparation surface.

Shen gathered the used tasting spoons and cleaned them at the washing side, then set them to dry. He placed the shell-handling cloth with the household washing, folded the opened green shell inward around the milk-rind, and added it to the waste bowl with the stem cap and bitter trimmings.

He carried the waste outside.

While he was gone, Nia wiped the preparation surface and Ren retrieved his travel ledger from the dry shelf near the entrance.

Shen returned, washed his hands, and went back to the dried meat waiting for the evening broth.

Ren opened his ledger to the page from their first goldheart attempt.

“You're keeping the method?” Nia asked.

“I found the carrier once. I would rather keep what he showed me than search for him again because I forgot whether ripeness or the milk-rind caused the bitterness.”

He began adding the answers beside the questions they had recorded three days earlier. Nia watched long enough to see the loosened stem and seam-opening method go onto the page, then stopped him once.

“Add that the rind-side edge can still taste bitter even when no white liquid gets on it.”

Ren added another line.

When he finished, Nia leaned closer and kissed him.

His hand settled at her waist. The kiss lingered longer than the one at the entrance, warm and familiar enough that she did not think about Shen working only a few steps away.

When she drew back, Ren looked down at the ledger.

“That part is not going in there.”

“It better not.”

He closed the cover and returned the ledger to the dry shelf.

Behind him, the unopened goldheart sat on the cooler shelf with its stem still tight. Beside it rested the covered bowl of sweet golden flesh.