Not only did Carga agree to let Taryn use the kitchen, on the condition she teach the cook how to make this mysterious pizza dish, she offered to accompany Taryn to the market. They left the palace grounds by a side gate, and Carga steered them through the shoppers with trained efficiency. Despite her slim form, she muscled her way around the crowds, her short hair bouncing with the effort. Taryn’s cynfar kept up a constant buzzing while they shopped, annoying her. Once they had all the items Taryn needed for her pizzas, they went to a tavern for their midday meal. They were nearly finished when her pendant sent an angry zap against her skin.
“Shit,” Taryn swore under her breath, rubbing her chest. “What the hell?”
Carga’s concerned look was more of the have-you-lost-your-mind kind of expression. Taryn took a sip of her mead and glanced around the tavern. When her gaze settled on a man sitting in a booth not far from them, she had the odd sensation she’d seen him before, even though he wore a dark cloak with the hood pulled low over his face.
“What’s with him?” Taryn motioned to the man.
She looked where Taryn indicated. “Who? I see no one.”
Icy chills slithered down Taryn’s neck. “There’s a man sitting right there. He’s wearing a dark hood.” The cook shook her head. “He’s right there, watching us. I can feel him.”
Carga quietly slid her dagger from its sheath, then lifted her mug and called out, “To the duke!” Everyone in the tavern raised their cups, echoing her cry. Without warning, she threw the dagger straight into the man’s chest.
Taryn watched in horror as it went through him, plunging into the wood. He slid from the booth, grinning at them, his yellow teeth catching the light from a nearby candle. When he brushed past her chair, she shuddered at the frigid air.
“Did you feel that?” Taryn challenged Carga.
The cook’s face paled. “Yes.” She retrieved her dagger from the bench and tossed several coins on the table before grabbing Taryn’s sleeve. “We must return to the palace.”
Taryn clutched her basket and hurried after her. There was no sign of the shadowy man on the streets, and even if there were, she wouldn’t have known because Carga nearly sprinted to the palace. When they passed the stables, she slowed to a walk until they reached the kitchens.
Panting, Taryn grabbed her arm. “Who was that man?”
Carga brushed her aside. “He is no one. Nothing. You do not need to worry about him. He is my problem.”
“What did he want from you?”
“What does every man want from a woman? Now, we have work to do, yes? You are going to make something delicious for us to eat. No more talk of what happened at the tavern. He cannot come here, so you need not worry.” After she unpacked her basket, she wrapped an apron around her waist before handing one to Taryn. “Work, yes?”
Taryn kept herself too busy to think about the shadow man while they made dough and sauce. The sounds and smells of the kitchen were intoxicating. She loved the dynamic between the cooks and scullery maids, like a dance performed to the tune of spoons stirring and pans clanging.
By the time the pizzas were ready to go into the bread oven, the sun was dipping low in the east. Carga sent a page to gather Taryn’s friends while they set a table in the kitchen garden. At first Carga objected, but Taryn assured her that where she came from, eating outside was perfectly fine.
They were just setting the food down when her guests arrived. Hayden brought two additional people with him, Lords Tinsley and Aomori. Taryn greeted them without any hint she knew of their rendezvous the night before.
When everyone was seated, she stood at the head of the table, indicating the food before them. “This is my small way of showing you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” She looked at the duke. “Back home, we call this pizza. It isn’t as fancy as you’re accustomed to, but it’s one of my favorite meals. I wanted to share it with you. Enjoy.” No one moved as she helped herself to a slice.
Tessa stood and leaned over the pizza. “It smells divine, but it looks unfinished.”
“Just take some and try it.” She served herself salad and breadsticks before passing them to the duke. “Here you go, Your Grace.” She indicated a bowl. “You can eat them plain or dip them into the sauce.” She dipped a breadstick and took a bite.
Rather than making her homesick, the tang of the tomatoes and garlicky dough evoked in her a feeling of being among friends. When no one else moved to eat, she gave a snort of disgust. “Okay, listen up, people. Tonight, we don’t have any servants. It’s feed yourself or go hungry. You are all too spoiled.”
At that, Baehlon reached out and took two slices. He folded one in half before devouring a large bite. A wide grin broke across his face. With two more bites, the pizza was gone. Bolstered by his approval, the others piled their plates with food. Duke Anje declared Taryn’s pizza his new favorite while Tessa thought it must’ve been sent from the gods.
“What we really need is some good ale,” Taryn suggested.
Carga hopped up from the table. “I have a barrel in the back. Brewed it myself.” When she returned with the cask and several mugs, the men cheered the cook. Carga gave a pretty curtsey and blushed. “It is nothing much. Just a recipe I stole from a merchant on his way to the Danuri Province.” She looked pointedly at Aomori, who laughed.
“If it’s a Danurian blend, then how can it not be excellent?” Aomori’s family was apparently one of the wealthiest in the province. He was fostering with Lord Tinsley for the season to teach him about winemaking, although Sabina argued the Summerlands produced the best vineyards in all of Aelinae.
“Perhaps you should visit my homeland and see for yourself,” Sabina said, with more than a little flirtation in her voice.
Aomori blushed, his olive skin shining in the dusky night, making Hayden’s and Tinsley’s pale faces look bland in comparison. He was more than just pretty; he was gorgeous. High cheekbones, slender nose that met full lips and a sturdy chin—he could’ve been a model.
“Does the ale displease you?” Aomori asked when she’d stared at him too long.
The ale was as good as any Taryn had had before. “No, it’s great. Perfect for our meal al fresco,” she stammered.
“Al who?” Tessa asked around a mouthful of breadstick.
“It means outside.”
“What language is it?” Eliahnna asked.
Shit. Aomori’s good looks and the ale had muddled her thoughts. “Just something I made up when I was a kid. I didn’t have many playmates, so I was forever making up my own languages.” She prayed Eliahnna would accept her crap answer.
“How creative you are!” Sabina came to her rescue. “Perhaps someday you can teach me one so we can communicate in secret.”
“Why don’t you just, you know…” Tessa said, tapping her forehead.
“Tessa,” Eliahnna hissed. “Don’t.”
“Thank you, Eliahnna, but there’s no need to save my feelings,” Sabina said. “I can’t mind-speak, Tessa. Not only am I lacking in ShantiMari but I don’t seem to possess the ability to converse with my thoughts.”
“Oh.” Tears brimmed in Tessa’s cornflower blue eyes. “I’m terribly sorry.”
Duke Anje patted his stomach, breaking the tension. “I didn’t think something so insubstantial could fill me up, but you have succeeded, my girl. I hope you’ve taught Carga how to make this heavenly dish.”
“I watched everything she did.” Carga gave Taryn a direct look. “And I know every spice she used.”
“Thanks for reminding me.” Taryn left them to retrieve the small pouch that Tabul, the spice merchant, had given her as a gift for Sabina. When she returned, she handed the bag to Sabina. “The spice merchant said you would like this.”
Sabina opened it, inhaling the scent. “Oh, he’s right. These are from my homeland. I’ve not smelled this in a long time.” She carefully tied the pouch before tucking it into her dress. “Thank you, Taryn. You have indeed brought me a precious gift. I would like to see this merchant and thank him myself.”
“I can take you tomorrow,” Taryn offered.
“I am sure Prince Rhoane would be happy to escort you,” Carga offered. A strange look passed between her and Rhoane, one that gave Taryn pause.
“I’d like to go,” Tessa piped in, followed by Eliahnna’s plea to join them.
“The more the merrier,” Taryn agreed.
“We should be plenty merry now,” Baehlon grumbled. “Why don’t you just invite the whole bloody palace?”
Taryn served dessert, a modified version of her favorite cookies: chai spiced snickerdoodles with ice cream sandwiched between. Every last bite was devoured by her guests. They passed the evening in genial conversation, and Taryn listened as they discussed everything from politics to the ripening of sargot trees in summer.
Each time the topic of Talaith was brought up, an excited buzz went through the group. Of them all, only Taryn and Aomori had never seen the capital city.
Duke Anje pushed himself away from the table and gave Taryn a warm hug. “Again, my thanks for a wonderful meal.” He looked at the sky above them, glittering stars stretched across a dark canvas. “We should dine al fresco more often.” He kissed Taryn’s forehead, lingering for a moment. The heady scent of musk and sweat tickled her nose. “You are quite a surprise, my young friend.”
“I’m glad you liked it. You’ve been so kind to me; it’s the least I could do. Maybe I could stay here and work for you?”
The duke chortled, shaking his head. “I don’t think that would be the best use of your talents.”
He said his goodbyes and the others followed, drifting off into the night. Taryn busied herself clearing the dishes, but Carga stopped her. “You have been in the kitchen all day. I will have someone come do that. Go enjoy the evening.”
“What about you? I’m sure you deserve a night away from the ovens. Will you join us?”
Tears sparkled in Carga’s eyes. “You have already given me a much needed break. You allowed me to sit at your table with the duke and princesses. I feel blessed this night.”
Taryn embraced her new friend. “Me too.” Murmurings from hundreds of voices buzzed in her head. “Did you hear that?” Carga only smiled and shooed her away.
Rhoane moved in step with her. “What are cheeseburgers?” he asked.
Taryn looked at him in surprise before laughing. “Baby steps, Rhoane. I don’t know whether you’re ready for those quite yet.”
They roamed the formal gardens, talking about things some people might consider inconsequential, but when Rhoane took her hand in his to lead her through the orchard, she didn’t remind him of his betrothed.
To the shadow man from the tavern, she gave not another thought.