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This majestic purple cocoon is the definition of peace. I hardly know what to do with myself. I could come here by myself and eat without having a panic attack.
Ollie’s busy scanning the menu—a slip of ornate, gold-flaked paper—while I’m busy reassessing my standards and expectations. A restaurant with chambers for people who don’t want to people is kind of peak. To get food without verbally asking for food? And also not having to order it online, pay a delivery fee, or pick it up? To get food with zero pain?
I never knew it was feasible to acquire interaction-free nourishment without paying extra for delivery and tagging it “leave at front door, ring bell.”
This trumps that in every way.
My doorbell frightens me.
With shaking fingers, I lift my own menu, which is strikingly lovely. My mouth might be a touch dry. “Is this…hand painted?” The tiny floral images make it look different from the gold flecks scattered all over Ollie’s.
“Mhm, probably.”
I blink at the tiny pictures, lift my attention. “Why?”
He raises a shoulder. “Someone probably said they wanted to, so they asked if they could, and then they did.”
Confusion. Utter confuddlement. Bamboozleness in my brain. “Huh?”
“If you want to do something creative, you ask—and, yes, I mean ask in any way you want to. Writing a note is fine if addressing someone directly is daunting. If what you want to do is acceptable to whoever it involves, you do it. And you do it as little or as much as you like because the simple act of starting something can be an inspiration for a dozen others. Someone is always ready to help.” He lowers his menu. “Even if they misjudge how much they’ll enjoy a task. Like Lesta did.”
“I do not understand.”
“Part of Cael’s job is making sure our society flows smoothly. With the way he runs his eclipse, everyone is allowed to find their own enjoyment from day to day. In order for everyone to know what structured things are available, he’s set up a job board where people can claim tasks they’re qualified for. Everyone who wants to can contribute more or less, with or without a more consistent job. I don’t exactly know how he keeps all of it running so smoothly, but that’s why he’s the prince and I’m not.”
I’m gaping.
“I am a frequent patron of the task board since I don’t consistently contribute in any other ways anymore.” He turns his menu over, scanning the flowing text. “Everybody has something to offer. Usually, it’s something incredible. The laws that rule Cael’s people come back to a foundation of offering what you can and resting safely in the knowledge that if what you can offer is only a little some days, it is always enough so long as your heart is in the right place.”
My throat closes, and my hands are shaking so bad I have to set my menu down. “You cannot be serious.” My voice cracks. “Nobody here has jobs?”
“Some people prefer a structured job that’s the same each day, but nobody here has to commit to a task they don’t enjoy for more than an afternoon if they sign up for something and realize they don’t like it. If someone who has maintained a position decides they want to change careers, they put the vacancy information on the board, and someone else will fill it.”
“What…what about money?”
“Don’t need it.”
Don’t…don’t need it? I’m struggling to figure out how a society that looks as clean and tidy as this one manages without threat of impending financial doom resting upon the shoulders of every person. No money? No bills? No taxes?
“How do you buy a place to live?” I ask.
“Faerie, on the whole, is insanely vast. The universes of it that fall beneath Cael’s domain stretch farther than even my mind can track. He is ancient and powerful and very good at what he does. If you need a house, you either find an unoccupied one that someone felt like building, because building houses is extremely fun, or—”
“It… I’m sorry. Building houses is extremely fun?”
He arches a brow. “Really? You’ve got that whole block game where humans spend years building castles. Of course building houses is extremely fun.”
Block game? Is he talking about…Minecraft?
Okay.
I cannot deny his logic.
The Minecraft community is mental, and they will build more than castles. They will craft entire nations if they are only given the chance. And an FPS of more than ten. In unrelated news, I should invest in a desktop…
“I forgot what I was saying,” Ollie notes.
I trace my own thoughts back, and say, “Houses. Fun. Buildin—”
