I looked at the vast plain tables across the lounge. I wasn't even the guest, yet I could feel the emptiness it would project to my picky customers.
And certainly, there was no hearth around here.
I could try to have one table separated from the rest and set into a corner where they could not feel the emptiness, but a lot of fuss about them and they would start cursing my extreme attention.
I couldn't lose them. I also wanted them happy enough by my hospitality for the system to grant me trust points and unlock the skill.
After thinking for a while, I realized there was only one place that was all that without trying.
The kitchens.
They could have their warmth and a hearth there.
"This way, please," I said, rejoining my impatient-looking guests.
The Probationary Caretaker level was so poorly equipped that I had no way of alerting anyone that I was bringing down guests.
As far as I knew, I was probably the first person to bring guests into the residential dungeons.
I knew it would probably send some of them into a panic that would annoy our guests even more, but that was a risk I would have to take.
There was no explicit house rule barring me from doing that, and desperate as I was, it was my only shot at my first success.
I led them through the staircase I had only first seen the previous day. The good thing about these stairs, as I had read in one of the caretaker's books, was that if you weren't a resident and you were not accompanied by one, you would be going down them to the end of your days.
They looped endlessly, creating myriads of diverging paths. Still, no matter which staircase you chose to follow, you would only end up with a dozen more endless descents.
It was simply a lifetime prison, unless someone chose to let you out.
I almost had been expecting my guests to have started complaining at this point, but surprisingly they seemed content to silently follow behind. Still, I would have to find a more direct route to my destinations now that I was the caretaker.
Eventually, we were standing at the base of the staircase and right in front of the massive black double doors.
Unlike Maya and Octava, and probably dozens of others who could just tap doors and they opened for them, I had to do it the good old way. Which was something in itself, seeing the size of the said doors.
I managed to throw them open, and just like me the previous day, the three brownies quickly recoiled back as a wave of chatter hit us from inside.
Hundreds of my colleagues were already seated across the tables having their breakfast.
"Welcome to our residents' dining hall." I stepped aside to let my guests pass.
They took measured steps in as their shocked faces scanned the crowd around them.
Surprisingly, and completely different from what I expected, most of the residents only stared briefly, but when they saw I was accompanying them, they went back to their breakfast.
It quickly became clear to me that maybe the brownies weren't a new thing to these former caretakers. The fact that none of them even waved or said a greeting meant they knew their trouble with too much attention.
On the other hand, for creatures that hated too much attention, the brownies were the ones who were now staring at the crowded hall looking utterly tongue-tied.
Just like I had thought, they had never gotten this far down the hotel.
"This way."
I stepped ahead as the doors shut gently behind us.
Actually, were it not for their stubborn insistence on a hearth, I might have had a table ready for them in this hall. I mean, the former caretakers weren't exactly that different from the brownies, so they might have actually been more at home here.
Reaching the doors leading to the kitchen, I pushed them open, and the three brownies stepped aside quite quickly.
"By all goods on earth, never have I seen so many of them. Been visiting the hotel my whole life," the first brownie swore, looking thoroughly overwhelmed.
"We have been served by a handful before. Always polite and mindin' their business," a second one added as I guided them down another set of stairs.
"They must be breeding. At this rate, they will occupy every floor in the damn hotel."
The first brownie stopped and racked the third one on the head so hard that it almost crumbled down the staircase.
"Can't you ever hold that foul mouth of yours? Can't you see that they are what keeps this place running?"
After scolding their friend, the first brownie rushed and tugged at my trousers.
"Sir, pray ignore our mean-talking rascal. Any true brownie knows enough to appreciate the opportunity of working in a magical home... or hotel," she quickly added.
"I did not take any offense, but our staff are well taken care of."
Honestly, I wanted to tell them I didn't care what their opinions were, but I realized I had done a serious mistake.
There must have been a reason no one brought guests to this area of the hotel.
Clearly, these brownies didn't seem to know that all these rats were former caretakers, and even earlier, when they had been discussing Maya, they hadn't seemed to consider that she could in fact be the person they were discussing.
It was, however, too late to turn them back now. All I could hope for was that I wouldn't be the first to break a well-preserved secret spanning centuries.
There wasn't another door to usher us this time. Instead, when the staircase came to an end, another large open space welcomed us.
You didn't have to see the huge steaming pots or the many catering staff perched on their tall stools hard at work to know it was the kitchen.
The scent alone that permeated from this place would have told you that already as soon as you crossed those doors above the stairs.
I turned to see a big smile playing on each of the brownies' faces.
They felt at home here.