About a dozen minutes passed. I spent most of them thinking about the broth.
It had gone out. I'd watched it go. Nearly everyone in the room had a bowl at some point. And then the bowls came back. Mostly full.
That was… not helpful.
The base stock had been fine. I'd checked it that morning. Same ratio. Same process. Nothing had changed from the previous batch. The potato adjustment had been necessary. I'd monitored it. That should've corrected the salt balance. The timing had been off at the start, yes, but I'd brought it under control by mid-morning.
I ran through each variable, one at a time. Nothing came up wrong.
The broth had been good.
The broth had gone largely unfinished.
Those two facts weren't supposed to coexist. I intended to find out why before I made it again.
The council chair was the first to recover. He stood, straightened his coat, and announced he needed to speak with the garrison about the morning's outcomes.
