Marked by the Four Beast Lords After Transmigration

The milk arrived before first bell.

Sera carried the small sealed jar herself, along with the message that had come down from the ridge household the previous evening.

“This is all they had extra today.”

Nia accepted the jar. “That is enough.”

“You said that last time.”

“It was true last time.”

Sera looked toward the preparation board, where one of the spring eggs already rested in a shallow fiber nest beside a small bowl of coarse grain.

“What are you doing with it?”

“I am trying something sweet.”

Sera’s attention sharpened.

Nia smiled. “You have work.”

“I know. I was only looking.”

“You were looking like you might become part of the test.”

Sera laughed, kissed Nia near the side of her head, and left as the first lower work bell sounded farther down the mountain.

Shen closed the entrance cover behind her.

Nia carried the milk toward the clean side.

She had been thinking about this since the first ridge jar came home.

Grain already softened well in liquid. Milk could add richness, eggs could thicken the mixture, and honey could add sweetness. A restrained amount of warming bark could keep the flavor from becoming flat. None of that required a new ingredient.

The problem was the grain.

Their ordinary grain softened well in porridge if it had enough time and liquid, but it remained coarse. Nia wanted something smoother this morning, something warm and sweet that she could eat slowly from a cup.

Her private memory kept circling custards, puddings, sweet rice, and the milk desserts she had eaten on Earth. She did not have the ingredients to reproduce any of them exactly.

That did not mean she could not try.

Shen came to the board after washing his hands.

“You are looking at the grain.”

“I need it finer.”

“You already ground some.”

“Not enough.”

He took the grinding bowl while Nia measured part of the fresh milk into a mixing bowl.

She did not use all of it. The rest went immediately into cool water away from the hearth.

Shen worked the grain in the grinding bowl until the pieces became much smaller. When he stopped, Nia rubbed a pinch between two fingers.

It was still rough.

“Again?” Shen asked.

“Yes.”

He resumed.

Nia washed the spring egg, dried the shell, and cracked it into a separate bowl. She placed the empty shell on the raw side, washed her hands, and returned to the egg.

Using it left five spring eggs in their dry-fiber storage.

She smelled the egg, then beat it until the white and yolk loosened together.

Shen pushed the grinding bowl toward her again.

Nia checked the grain. The pieces were smaller, but they were still not fine enough to disappear into a smooth mixture.

She looked at the stone tool, then at Shen. “I do not think more grinding is going to change it enough to justify keeping you here all morning.”

“I can keep going.”

“I know. The grain still has edges.”

Shen touched it between his fingers. “Yes.”

Nia turned back to the milk.

She added honey to the mixing bowl, then shaved in the smallest amount of warming bark.

Shen watched the bark fall. “Less than the berry cups.”

“Much less. There is no fruit here to stand against it.”

Nia stirred the mixture near gentle heat until the honey dissolved and the milk warmed through without simmering.

She smelled it, then tasted a drop from the spoon. The sweetness was enough, but the milk still smelled too plain. The warming bark added depth without giving her the kind of fragrance she wanted, and adding more would only push the flavor toward the medicinal edge they already knew.

“More honey?” Shen asked.

“No. Sweetness is not the problem.”

Nia remembered Aurel’s report from the picnic. He had described the broken trader packet as sweet rather than hot, perhaps some kind of bark or dried flower. That might eventually give her the aroma she was missing, but the trader could wait until she actually met him.

For now, she had milk, egg, grain, and honey.

She slowly stirred a small amount of the warmed sweetened milk into the beaten egg.

Shen watched the bowl. “Why not put the egg straight into the warm milk?”

“I do not want part of it cooking before I can mix it through.”

She added a little more milk, stirred again, then returned the loosened egg mixture to the main bowl.

The color deepened slightly.

Nia divided the finished mixture evenly between two small stone cups and added the same small amount of ground grain to each. She stirred each cup until the grain was distributed through the milk mixture.

Shen looked into the first cup. “You used much less grain than you would for porridge.”

“Much less.”

“What are you trying to make it do?”

“The egg should thicken the milk, and the grain should give it more body without turning it into breakfast porridge.”

“If the grain softens enough.”

Nia looked at him. “That is the question.”

She set both cups into a shallow covered pot where hot water came partway up their sides. The pot went near steady heat instead of directly over the strongest part of the hearth.

Then there was nothing useful to do except wait and check.

Nia cleaned the egg bowl while Shen returned the unused grain to its dry container. They washed the grinding bowl and stone before Nia checked the cups again.

The surface of the first had thickened slightly around the edges, but the center still shifted freely when she tilted the cup.

Shen leaned over her shoulder. “Longer?”

“For one of them.”

She removed the first cup and left the second inside. “I want to know whether more time fixes the center or makes the rest worse.”

Shen carried the first cup to the table while Nia gave the second more time.

When she opened the pot again, its surface had changed. The egg had tightened enough to create small pale grains through the milk, while the actual ground grain had swollen unevenly beneath it.

Shen came beside her.

“That one thickened more.”

“Yes, but not the way I wanted.”

She removed it from the hot water and set it beside the first cup to cool.

The first looked almost right from a distance, pale gold from egg and milk with a few darker flecks of warming bark and soft steam rising from the surface. When Nia put in a spoon, however, the center remained thin enough to run around it.

She lifted a bite, and some of the milk mixture slid back into the cup before the grain reached her mouth.

The honey came through first, followed by the richer milk and a small amount of warmth from the bark. Then the coarse grain caught against her tongue.

She chewed and looked at Shen. “The flavor is better than the texture.”

He took the spoon she offered and tasted slowly.

“The grain is still too noticeable.”

“Yes. I wanted it much softer than this.”

“The milk and egg are good together.”

“That part I like.”

Nia reached for the second cup. That one resisted the spoon enough to give her a moment of hope, but when she lifted a bite, tiny cooked-egg grains sat among the swollen pieces of coarse grain.

She tasted it and pressed her lips together.

Shen waited until she swallowed before tasting from his own spoon.

“The first cup is better,” he said. “This one thickened, but the egg catches with the grain.”

“I agree. More cooking tightened the egg before the grain became soft enough.”

“The grain needs longer than the milk and egg.”

“Yes.”

Shen looked toward the dry grain container, and Nia followed his gaze.

Their current grain was useful. It made porridge, breads, fillings, crumbs, and substantial meals. It simply was not giving her this texture. She had tried grinding it finer, but the remaining pieces still stayed distinct, while cooking longer only made the egg worse.

“I need a grain that softens differently,” she said. “Or something much finer that can thicken the milk without leaving grit.”

Shen nodded. “The markets may have finer meal.”

“Maybe. But I do not want someone grinding this same grain for half a day if the result is still rough.”

He tasted the first cup once more to compare it with the second, then set the spoon down.

“The warm milk and honey work.”

“Yes.”

“The bark is not quite right.”

Nia pointed toward him. “Exactly.”

He glanced at her hand, and she lowered it.

“I kept thinking I needed more sweetness, but I do not. It needs another scent.”

“Fruit?”

“Not sour fruit.”

She thought again of Aurel’s description of something that smelled like sweet bark or dried flowers. Maybe neither would be right, but she understood the missing part more clearly now.

“Something aromatic,” she said. “Something that smells like it belongs in sweet food before you even taste it.”

Shen considered that.

“The yellow spring-fruit peel?”

Nia shook her head. “Maybe in something else. That one smelled useful, but the flesh was too watery, and we still have not settled what the dried peel becomes.”

Nia took another spoonful from the first cup. The mixture was still too thin, and the grain still remained distinct against her tongue, but the flavor was good enough that she swallowed it.

“That is annoying.”

Shen sat across from her. “Because it failed?”

“Because it almost tastes like something I want.”

He looked into his cup. “What did you want?”

Nia rested her spoon against the rim.

“I wanted it soft, warm, and sweet. Something you can eat slowly when you do not want a heavy meal. The grain should almost disappear into it.”

Shen stirred once. “This grain will not disappear.”

“No.”

“It does not disappear in porridge either.”

“I know.”

Nia picked up the second cup.

“We are not wasting this.”

Shen looked at the grainy mixture. “What are you doing?”

“I am using it differently.”

Nia brought two shallow bowls to the table and divided two large pieces of yesterday’s flatbread between them.

She tore one portion into the first bowl and spooned some of the thinner sweet mixture over it. The bread absorbed the milk quickly.

She used the thicker second batch on the bread in the other bowl and pressed the pieces down enough for the liquid to soak through.

Shen leaned closer to the first bowl. “The thinner batch may work better soaked into bread.”

“It is no longer the dessert I wanted.”

“No.”

“But I would rather eat sweet soaked bread than throw away milk and egg.”

She let both bowls sit long enough for the bread to soften.

Nia tasted from the thinner one first. The rough grain blended into the softened bread instead of remaining separate against her tongue.

She pushed that bowl toward Shen so he could taste it.

He took one piece with his spoon.

“The thinner batch works better soaked into bread.”

“I know.”

“Are you unhappy about that?”

Nia looked at him. “I am choosing not to answer.”

Shen gave a quiet laugh.

She tried the thicker bowl next. It still carried tiny egg grains, but the bread made them far less noticeable.

Shen tasted that version after her. When they settled back into eating, he kept the thinner bowl and Nia kept the thicker one.

Nia used the edge of her spoon to divide one softened piece from her thicker bowl and moved half into Shen’s thinner bowl.

“There. Now you have both.”

Shen spooned some of the thinner mixture over it before eating.

Nia returned to her own bowl.

They finished the failed dessert that way, each eating from their own bowl while warm milk and honey soaked through yesterday’s bread and the original stone cups cooled beside them.

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