Chapter 31 Mama Zen
Verena
“ S o, why are you training me and not Esmeray?” I question Hadeon as he wipes sweat off his brow and I raise mine back at him, remembering when making him sweat during training was such a feat.
“She’s helping Eryx with some wedding plans.” He tells me, dodging another hit to his face. The bruise delivered from my fist an hour ago shines bright now. “Excited about your wedding tomorrow?” He asks me, lunging forward and grasping me to throw me down but I use his weight against him and angle our bodies so I’m on top before I start pummeling his arms.
A vision from the cave flashes over my eyes and suddenly it feels as if it is Amaelya again trying to kill me. A sob wrecks through me and I punch harder.
“Verena.” I don’t register his voice. I keep hitting, slamming my hands down again and again.
“Verena!”
I see him now, Hadeon— not Amaelya— and I scramble off of him backwards until I hit the cool gray wall behind me and tuck my legs under my arms.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…“ I swipe tears from my eyes and hide my face in my arms. He rushes over, sliding on his knees from what I can hear .
Hands lightly touch my arms, “Verena. It’s fine. I am fine. See?” He tries, pulling my hands from under my head and I look up at him to see concern etched over his entire face. “You went through a trauma, V. If you don’t have any side effects, I’d be concerned. Do not apologize.”
“I could’ve hurt you.” I tell him, my voice as quiet as a mouse.
He deadpans me a look, “I doubt that. I can take a lot. ‘Practically un-killable’, remember?” He let’s out a soft laugh at the memory we share from my first training session when I had called him that after not being able to land a single hit on him the entire time . “I am fine. Come on,” He helps me ease into a standing position. “Let’s call it a day. We’ve been at it for hours.” I nod at him, thankful for his friendship.
“Thank you,’’ I tell him and he looks at me with confusion. “For everything you’ve done for me, Hadeon. I do not know what I’d do with out you. You’ve been my only friend for half a decade. You started training me and without you I’d likely still be there stuck in a loveless marriage, trapped as a kings whore.” His face drops into something sadder.
“I lied to you-”
“For good reason.” I point out.
“But I still lied. I can never fully make that up to you. But my loyalty is to you and Eryx, always. Lies will never be uttered from my mouth toward you or him ever again.” I nod in agreement. “I am still your friend.”
I hold back the tears from spilling over my eyes as we make our separate ways. I needed food after all that.
* * *
Barefoot in a day-to-day gown, I made my way down to the kitchen. I hadn’t really been here at all since arriving. Ruelle has taken such great care of my time here— including what I ate.
I almost trip on the last step of the stairs for the service quarters, catching myself on the railing next to it. “Careful, deary. That step gets us all.” An elderly feminine voice sounds from the busy kitchen. It’s gargantuan in size but cozy in looks and feel. All cabinets are open— no doors or hinges in sight— the counter space is broad and spanning almost the entire wall before curving into an L. On the complete other side of the counters, there’s a good size table that can fit eight beings easily.
The colorful walls were a lilac tone. Pots and pans hung from the ceiling near the stove, canisters full of, what I can only assume, flour, spices, sugar, and more. The smells were heavenly; a roast in a giant slow-cooker with carrots, celery, potatoes, and herbs being thrown in as I watch.
“Can I help you?” The lady asked me. I found her in the bustling noise, a shorter dark-skinned female with a full-bodied frame, grayed dark hair in long dreadlocks decorated with rings. She wears an apron over her clothing.
“Hello,” I put on a bright smile. “My name is Verena-” The entire kitchen stops for a brief pause, watching me before glancing their eyes at her and continuing on.
“I should’ve known. I would know those cheekbones anywhere. You’re the daughter of Vaia Nightcrest.” Her words were finite and a blush rose to my cheeks.
“Yes ma’am.” I answer, unsure of what to say as I stand there, rubbing my arm awkwardly.
“Well,” She starts, waving her arms in a closer motion. “Come on over. Let’s get a look at ya.” She talks as if she has no care of my title and I do enjoy it immensely. She had a very warm motherly energy about her but I know she wouldn’t let someone get away with anything. I slowly step over to her.
“I don’t mean to interrupt…” I trail off as she circles me like a lion assessing prey.
“You look just like her. Vaia was one of my best students. Loved it in here. You like to cook, girl?” She asks, waving a wooden spoon around before checking her sauce.
“I wasn’t allowed to even try in Zorya.” I say, honestly. “But I’d love to learn.” I nod at her.
“Don’t you have a wedding to plan?” She asks, a brow raised.
“Contrary to popular belief, but I care more about the people staffing this castle than a ceremony meant to be a public presentation of my love for King Eryx. We’re mates and we love each other. That is all that matters.” I speak earnestly.
“Well then. This pasta isn’t going to make itself.” I give her a small smile before letting her tie an apron around me. She stays behind me before twisting my hair around with a clean thin wooden stick I recognize as a form of utensil. “Chopsticks are a great form of eating utensil but sometimes we need a little help holding our hair together, too.” Somehow, my hair stays put with the stick holding it up. “We don’t need your hair getting in the food, no matter how pretty it is.” I let out a laugh before she instructs me on what to do.
For the next two hours, I help create dinner and dessert from scratch, and plan our wedding food for the reception. She shows me how to make the perfect citrus-y sweet beverage.
I was genuinely laughing—something I don’t get to do often enough. Flour dusting my apron and my cheeks from rubbing my hands over my face. It was delightfully warm in the kitchen and I know I’d have to leave soon but this was a great way to de-stress and soothe myself.
“I want you to know, Miss Zenaida, that while I’m going to be queen, I know you run this kitchen and have spectacularly for a while. I am not picky with food either so if you make something I haven’t tried, you will hear no fuss from me. I appreciate you teaching me and doing such a wonderful job with your food.” She brushes the compliments off before grasping my hands in both of hers.
“Call me Mama Zen, baby. That’s what I have the other kids call me. And worry not, if you didn’t like something before, you’ll like Mama Zens way of it.” She was sure of herself, rightfully so, but I giggle anyway at her confidence and smile brightly.
“What did I tell you about wearing shoes, Seren Fach?” His deep masculine voice carries through the kitchen and once again, it’s bustling noise pauses to assess the scene.
My eyes grow wide, looking down at me feet before glancing back up at him. I go to answer him sheepishly but Mama Zen cuts in .
“Whose kitchen is this?” My attention snaps to her, eyes wide in surprise. She holds a hand on her hip, wooden spoon in the other aimed at the king. Her brows are raised, awaiting an answer.
I look at the grown male, large in muscle as he narrows his eyes at her. They stare off for a moment before he relents with a sigh and a roll of his eyes, “Yours.”
“That’s what I thought. If Miss Verena wants to walk around barefoot like a heathen in here, then she will.” Her accent reminds me of the witch from the woods just not as thick but there was a twang to it not heard in Zorya.
“Yes, ma’am.” He says and immediately I’m ready to do whatever he tells me. His muscles fit his black button down, a common choice in his wardrobe that is well-deserving of its praises by me. The top few buttons are undone, tattoos peaking out on his chest. His raven hair messy and his dark brown eyes shining as he peruses me from the stairway.
I watch his eyes darken as he trails his gaze over my dusted apron and face, noting the stick in my hair and the way the dress I wore was scrunched up with a rope to keep myself from tripping over it.
“I see you’re having fun. I was coming to finalize the menu for the wedding.” He looks at his head chef who smiles at him.
“No need. Verena did it.” This time he looks at me with surprise. I know he took over all wedding planning since Hadeon told him how stressful it was for me when I was marrying Dryston.
“You didn’t have to do that.” He walks over to me, eyes never leaving mine as he wraps an arm around my waist to pull me closer to him.
“I wanted to help and Mama Zen was already teaching me things. I might as well have helped her take this off her and your plates. I don’t want you to think I don’t want to plan this day with you. If you need me for anything, let me know.”
“I can’t wait to marry you.” He says, kissing me softly.