Maid with Necromancy

Ma Bell smiled while she inwardly sneered at the guests occupying her prestigious table. These were the poor saps that were brought in! She fumed.  

While Prince Jacob and Princess Willow, the heirs' cousins, were royalty, it was unlikely they’d keep those titles if they even decided to evolve. For siblings, they were a bit too close; while they thought the footsie they were playing under the table was subtle, it very much wasn’t.

The old priest Parrish Nim spent the whole first course coughing and blushing.  A repeated fill-in guest, who only gets invited because he likes to brag about The Dragonfly Inn, leading to potentially even better guests showing interest.

Louis Winthorpe III and Billy Ray Valentine might as well have been bums off the street. Commodity traders talking about the price of fruit, which entertained no one.

“Do you think there will be a freeze on the citrus ridge this year?” Valentine asked, Winthorpe.

“I’ve heard rumors. I bet you one iron bit we can make some lordling very poor with that deal.”

Both laughed together at some private joke around that.

Insufferable, as this meal had seven courses, and the second had only just started. Ma

Bell let her eyes search the crowd of guests for anyone who might bring a better atmosphere to her table.

The floor was barren of guests, as all foreign guests were heading to Hazeldown. And after she housed Lady White, most aristocrats avoided doing business here. Not that anyone who chose to avoid her for that reason would be worthy of this table. The business wasn’t here. More  staff members moved about in their green uniforms than guests.  At this level, Lily could run the hotel.

“Oh, some cream fell on my chest. Can you get that for me, dear brother?”  Willow simpered.

Jacob reached over and wiped the bit of purposely dropped cream off for several seconds longer than anyone could consider appropriate.

Parrish looked like they were about to faint.

Ma Bell let her hand reach out and signaled her staff. With a twist of her fingers, she sent a message to the whole hotel, one that every waiter, server, and cleaner trained for but had never seen in action.

While called dragonflies, they descended like locusts, swarming the table with skilled fingers, taking each item there. Food, drink, plates, cups, and a few employees with rogue skills ensured that not even silverware remained in guests' hands.

Three breaths, all it took was three breaths, and the table was bare wood.

“Bu… bu… but I was eating that.” Willow cried.

Ma Bell stood up and twisted her skills so that attention focused on her. “The table is closed. Dinner is over. I’m off to Hazeldown to find some good tables where I can be a guest. So long, and thanks for your patronage.”

The staff followed as she walked, changing her dining outfit into travel clothes with magic and skills. The guests sat hungry and stunned,poor manners perhaps, but Ma Bell was ready for change, and their dull company inspired it. A carriage waited, packed and ready. After three decades, it was time for a vacation.

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