“I see.” Kate had a finger pressed to her mouth as she frowned thoughtfully. Between Kraken and her son, she had just been filled in on the development of Fin’s new ability. As she listened to him describe the experience, her mind had begun whirring to life.
“Fin, I think your decision to pursue Lady Jenoure has brought you closer to the essence of your abilities.” Standing, the healer began to pace in front of the fire while the redhead remained seated on the ground, wondering if there would be any chance of getting back to bed before dawn.
“How do you suppose?”
“Well …” Katelyn stopped and stared down at her son pensively. “A home is supposed to be filled with love and openness, isn’t it? When you think of a ‘home,’ you don’t think of it as a place where people who love each other cannot be together. I think with you embracing your feelings and pursuing your relationship—even if it seems unlikely to end well—”
“Thanks, Mum.”
“—even if it seems unlikely to end well, it is what a home should have.” Kate finished scowling down at Fin. “I think you can only now understand Kraken because you aren’t fighting against rules that have no place in a home.”
“Your mother is a wise woman. Could you please tell her to scratch under my chin at her earliest convenience?” Kraken looked to Fin pointedly then back up to Kate.
“I can’t keep track of all the things my powers involve off the top of my head.” The cook sighed, ignoring Kraken’s glare when he failed to relay the message.
Katelyn’s studious gaze softened. As she crouched down in front of Fin, she reached out and gently stroked his cheek. Drawing his eyes up to her own, he knew he couldn’t hide his true feelings from her. She knew him too well.
“My love, I think you are taking on more than you should. It might be time to start admitting your limitations,” she remarked quietly. “It will be better for them in the long run as well if your potential and abilities are maximized and not spread so thinly. What task is draining you the most? Is it all the preparation of the food or—”
“It’s the hours. Being in the kitchen from before dawn to after dusk, and helping the king on top of it all—”
“Helping the king? Ah. That young knight—Harris, I believe? He mentioned that you’ve been doing so. What is it exactly you have been helping him with? His diet plan? Is he recovering from substance abuse and needs more fluids delivered regularly?” The intensity of her questioning paired with exhaustion made Fin’s mind go blank.
“Could we do this in the morning by chance?”
Kate blinked, breaking free of her focused intent. During her years as a healer, she was used to waking and being alert for long painstaking hours. This meant that when a new dilemma to unravel presented itself, she wasted no time in delving in—a tendency that had not always boded well for Fin.
“When else can we talk about this?” she asked pointedly.
Fin glared at Kraken who was the culprit of starting the poorly timed discussion, but the familiar only stared back smugly.
“Look. I can’t continue working with no sleep and pulling off sixteen-hour days,” he snapped angrily.
“You need to request shorter hours! Have someone else take care of—”
“I’m not talking about this now. I’m going to sleep in the kitchen. Good night.”
Standing abruptly, Fin stormed out of the cottage leaving both his mother and familiar alone. The witch headed back to the kitchens, wondering briefly why for once he was not being followed by a Troivackian knight, but he didn’t have the energy to dwell on it.
Upon crossing the threshold, it took Fin only a breath to realize he wasn’t alone in the room.
“Who’s here?” he called out while taking a sideways step away from the door to place his back against the wall.
“What the— Good Gods, Finlay, do you never sleep?” The king’s voice crested the silence. As the witch’s eyes adjusted to the light of the room, he recognized the pointed beard tip in the shadows belonging to his ruler.
“Are you alone, Your Majesty?” the witch asked with a sigh, already guessing the answer.
“I am. I just came down for a bit of ale and a think.” Norman turned back to the mug in his hands, his posture for once slightly slumped.
As Fin stepped farther into the room, the hearth and every candle gently rose back up. The kitchen was cast in a cozy glow, and without a word, the redhead wearily retrieved a mug of ale of his own before joining the king at the table.
“Why are you up still?” Norman asked, taking a sip and keeping his gaze fixed on the fire in front of him.
“My mother can be chatty at night. I came to get some sleep,” Fin admitted before realizing the connotations of his statement.
“Ah, sorry to intrude. I will be back up to my chambers shortly.” Norman took another gulp of ale.
Fin looked to the monarch and saw in the hazy light the shadows that plagued the man. The war hadn’t even begun, but the stress was written in every deepened line around his eyes and forehead.
“Do not worry, Your Majesty. Sometimes we all end up carrying burdens that threaten to break us. Having some quiet and an ale can be good for perspective. Or tea if you prefer.”
“There could be five thousand troops in Daxaria waiting to attack our citizens, the Zinferan military has not yet been secured, and my wife is going to have our daughter before reaching a full term, which means one or both of them may perish.”
“… I’m sorry to say ale is the strongest alcohol I have.”
“Don’t worry. It does just fine for times such as these. Any more and I wouldn’t be able to carry on.” The king’s thumb gently rubbed against the rough mug, his mouth pursed as though he wanted to say something.
“Mr. Ashowan, there is something I wanted to wait to tell you. However, the more I think on it, the more I believe you should know sooner rather than later.” Norman turned to look at Fin, the half of his face illuminated in the firelight somber.
The witch felt his heart skip a beat. Whatever it was the king had to say, it was not good.
Norman made sure that Fin was fully focused on him as he braced himself for an unknown reaction.
“Your father is coming.”
The flames in the room burned brighter, and the smell of electricity made the hair on Norman’s arms stand at attention as Fin stared back with a blank expression.
“Why?”
“I had Lord Piereva arrested today, and the Troivackian king is sending his chief of military to retrieve the earl. He will be staying with us for a few days to bear witness to the betrothal between a Daxarian and Zinferan noble.” The king kept the witch fixed under his attention.
Fin’s grip around his mug tightened, and his heart raced wildly. “My father is coming here. When?” he repeated slowly in a daze.
“My guess would be that it will be a couple of weeks.”
“I don’t like this, sire. Something is … wrong about the entire situation. My father is up to something. So is the Troivackian king if he warranted the earl’s arrest so easily …”
“I was thinking the same thing, to be honest. We can try to figure out what they may be planning tomorrow.” The king finished the last of his ale, his gaze turning to the mug in his hands.
“Your Majesty, I might need more help for my duties. Either in the kitchens or … somewhere else if I am going to spend half my days with you. While my magic can continue to work while I’m not in the room because it is still in my home, it does drain me more if I’m not in the same space. Especially as I am not able to handle any of the tasks by hand, it means my magic is doing my entire job while I work with you.” Fin felt his cheeks flame as he spoke.
Norman turned a tired smile to the witch. “Your aides aren’t helping you as much as you’d like?”
“No, it isn’t that … They don’t really know how to cook for the most part. Not the way I can.”
“No one can cook the way you can, Mr. Ashowan,” the king complimented with a regal nod.
“I guess I just … I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m saying.” Fin sighed and shook his head. He regretted even trying to broach the topic. What kind of person pestered the king, who carried the weight of his country, in the middle of the night?
“You need a break,” Norman offered gently, his tone patient. “I understand. I feel similarly, though I suppose I have more nights to myself and sleep than you do.”
The king pondered silently to himself for a few moments before speaking again.
“Very well. Mr. Ashowan, you are doing your country and crown a great service as of late. All while performing your regular duties, and yet you are not receiving any recognition or promotion at this time. How about I give you a week off to recuperate. In exchange”—the king held up his finger as Fin opened his mouth to protest—“I want you to investigate Austice. I want you to try and find where some of the soldiers may be hiding. Go to some of the local taverns and try to hear any rumors that may be going around. Try to learn if there have been any large groups of Troivackians milling about. We recently lost an informant in the city, and having a pair of eyes I can trust will be worthwhile.”
Fin considered the offer with his mind working sluggishly. It would be nice to have a bit of a rest from his duties, even if he was technically still working …
“Thank you, Your Majesty. I will do my best to figure out where the Troivackian soldiers may be, and I’ll try to rest and get my head on straight before my …” Fin cleared his throat. “Before Aidan Helmer arrives.”
Norman nodded and gave Fin a small smile before clapping the witch on the shoulder. “Thank you. Now, I better get up before my wife wakes and decides she would like to be cross with me. Get everything ready tomorrow for your absence, and then start your time away the day after. To hide our true movements, we’ll use the excuse that you are investigating some of the local vendors for better bulk deals for the castle.”
Waving over his shoulder, the king left the witch alone with his thoughts, closing the door firmly behind himself.
Fin slowly rounded the table over to the fire and did his best to focus on the lovely idea that he would get some time to catch up on rest. Slowly, he stretched down on the ground, not wanting to think about the possibility of seeing his father again.
He didn’t even want to consider what the man might try to do should they lay eyes on each other again …
Fin had nearly reached the soothing depths of sleep, when a final thought shattered his peace.
What will my mother do if she finds out her husband is coming?
As the cook pounded the dough on his table, the aides watched him nervously. They had never seen the cook’s eyes so bloodshot, or his face so pale.
“Did you … get any sleep, Mr. Ashowan?” Heather squeaked. She had only just returned to working with them, having come down with a nasty lung infection the weeks prior.
“Not really. Hannah, you’re on apples; Sir Taylor, you—”
The kitchen door burst open, and Fin nearly swore out loud. He was not in a good mood that morning, and his nerves were burnt to a crisp.
A lady Fin hadn’t ever seen before entered, dressed in finery grander than anything he had ever seen. She wore a silvery dress that sparkled slightly in the daylight, with emerald and sapphire jewels glittering on her throat, ears, and hands. She sauntered in and studied the cook from head to toe as though calculating his exact value as a butcher would in front of the pig pens.
Behind her was none other than Lord Nam.
“Are you the cook?” the woman questioned imperiously.
“I am.”
Fin returned her stare and didn’t bow. Technically she had not introduced herself, so he technically was not being rude.
Giving him a far slower, hungrier lookover, the woman smiled up at him. Fin had to fight off the urge to cringe away from her. It was somehow abundantly apparent what she was thinking while looking at him.
“Well, you certainly are a sight for sore eyes—which is exactly what I’ve heard around the castle.” The noblewoman glanced over at Lord Nam, who was studying Fin for himself with a haughty eyebrow raised.
“We have come to offer you a position in our future household. You will be paid double what the king is offering, and you will accompany us wherever we travel to serve as our own personal cook. While I’ve certainly had better cooking in Sorlia, your knowledge of Zinferan dishes has impressed my beloved.” The woman then cast a brilliant smile over her shoulder to Lord Nam, who immediately smirked back as though they shared some kind of inside joke.
Fin’s eye twitched.
“You’re a long way from home there, sweetheart. Our cook doesn’t need to put up with the likes of you.”
Everyone turned in shock to stare at none other than Sir Harris, who was staring at the woman with open disgust.
It was then that the rest of the occupants of the room noticed that the woman dressed in the most expensive clothes and jewels the kingdom could offer and the slightly disheveled Sir Harris were, without a doubt, siblings. The identical auburn hair, hazel eyes, and even the shape of their jaw … it was irrefutable.
“Oh, you putrid little rat! What in the world are you doing here!” the woman shrieked as she descended upon the group, making everyone but Hannah and Sir Harris take several steps back.
“I work here. I’m surprised you’re risking your precious shoes on a kitchen floor to offer a job to someone,” Sir Harris sneered with flushed cheeks.
“Get out of my sight! You! Cook! Fire this man immediately! He is a blemish to this castle and any nobility that may have the misfortune of crossing paths with him!”
“Beloved, who is that man?” Lord Nam stepped in farther to the kitchen while trying to peer around his alleged fiancée to see whoever she was shouting at.
“No one!” Swinging around hastily, her eyes flashing dangerously, the lady blocked Sir Harris from view of Lord Nam.
“Pardon me, Miss …?” Fin began, his voice a growl.
“Miss?! Do I look like a commoner to you?” she demanded before throwing her chin in the air. “I am Lady Marigold, daughter of Duke Iones!”
“Easy mistake to make if I don’t hear an introduction.” Fin shrugged, feigning innocence. Before either the lady or lord could chastise him for his lack of apology, he added on to his statement, “After all, you did not address a knight of Daxaria with a formal introduction.”
All the color drained from Marigold’s face.
“A … a knight? Do you mean to tell me that little urchin is a—”
“My lady, I do not recommend referring to a man entrusted with guarding the lives of our king and queen with such disdain.” Fin bowed his head, his tone emotionless.
For a moment the harpy failed to make a sound.
Then, in a whirlwind of indignity, she grabbed Lord Nam’s arm and headed for the castle door.
“A lowly knight is nothing to a future duchess,” she cast out with a cruel laugh.
“Say that to me when our country burns with war,” Sir Harris boomed with shaking fists at his sides.
Lady Marigold swung around, her face stretched into a cold smile.
“I doubt I’ll have much of a chance to say anything to you ever again, even during a war because I can tell you’ll be what you’ve always been. Expendable.”