Chapter 6 Busy
Busy
Raewyn
Each day the healer visited my chambers, and I continued to regain my strength bit by bit.
Every night, a new evening gown arrived, each more beautiful than the last, and Kem helped me change into it for dinner. I was amassing quite a collection.
Where had they even come from? The dresses were all my size, always perfectly suited for my figure (which was filling out steadily thanks to the lavish dinners every evening in the dining room.)
Unlike the first time my ladies maid had brought me here, Pharis did not join me at the table. Ever.
I never saw him during the day either. I’d begun to wonder if he’d left Stormcrest altogether.
Whether he’d left the castle or not, his servants continued to obey his order not to speak with me. All of them but Kem.
In the privacy of my room, she and I chatted, but no one else would do more than nod at my greetings.
Night after night, I ate alone, silence filling the grand dining room and making me wish for the crowded confines of my family’s tiny cottage in Waterdale, for the cozy evenings spent together before the fire, eating little more than bowls of gruel while we told stories and laughed.
Somehow those meager provisions shared with people I loved were more satisfying than this ridiculous bounty of expertly prepared food.
Finally after a week of solo dinners, I couldn’t take it anymore.
I’d convinced Kem to talk to me. Maybe I could get the rest of the staff to communicate, at least when Pharis wasn’t around.
At the end of the meal, before Kem took me back to my room, I asked one of the footmen to go to the chef and request his presence at the table.
“I want to give him my compliments,” I explained. “I eat his wonderful food three times a day, and yet I’ve never met him. I don’t even know his name.”
The footman appeared reluctant, so I added a sweet, “Please?” to my request.
He left the room, and a few minutes later, reappeared in the company of another man. I was shocked to see that he was human.
He was much shorter than the footman and appeared to be in his late forties or early fifties, his age easier to detect since he wasn’t Elven. Even the middle-aged and older Elves looked somewhat youthful, as if time didn’t affect them.
This man had gray hair and facial wrinkles, not something I’d seen among Elven people.
Like all the other staff members, the chef refrained from speaking but did give me a friendly smile.
“Hello. I’m Raewyn.”
He simply nodded.
“I just wanted you to know how much I’ve enjoyed your cooking,” I said, “and how much I appreciate all you’ve done to take care of me since I got here.
Breakfast and luncheon are always excellent, but when I arrive for dinner every night, it’s like witnessing an artist at work. You truly are a master of your craft.”
The man’s face pinkened, and he beamed at me, opening his mouth then closing it again as if he wanted to speak and had to stop himself.
“I’m wondering about the ingredients in the souffle tonight,” I said, hoping to tip that urge into action.
The chef’s brows shot up, and he leaned in, keenly interested.
“The flavor was so rich but so subtle,” I continued. “I feel like I detected gruyere cheese in it, but I’m not sure.”
“Close. It was gouda,” the chef blurted then looked around at the other staff with wide eyes.
He’d broken the no-talking-to-Raewyn rule. And there had been witnesses.
After a protracted silence, Kem said, “I love gouda.”
I shot a grateful look in her direction.
“I love it too,” one of the footmen said. “Especially the way you use it, Chef.”
“Same here,” another footman said.
A gush of joy filled my heart and sent laughter bubbling up my throat. They were talking.
Whether the chef’s “mistake” had broken the dam or they were all just tired of restraining themselves, it seemed the time limit on the silent treatment might have expired.
“Was that also gouda on the flatbread today at lunch?” I asked.
Darting his eyes from person to person around the room first, the chef answered.
“I never repeat a cheese in the same day,” he informed me as if it was a matter of professional pride. “That was Red Rind. The flavor you noticed in the flatbread was most likely the smoked paprika, and I added a bit of pear puree as well to balance the sharpness of the cheese.”
“Wonderful. Truly wonderful,” I said. “May I ask your name, chef?”
He looked around at his fellow rule-breakers again, and then answered.
“It’s Korbin, my lady. But you can just call me Chef—when Prince Pharis is not around,” he added quickly.
“Thank you for telling me, Korbin. I am so pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Then I turned to the footman who’d dared to speak first. “And your name?”
After a brief hesitation, he gave a little bow and said, “It’s Bretton, my lady.”
Each footman gave me his name in turn as we made eye contact. What’s more, the kitchen maids must have heard us, because they peeked from the doorway then hurried over to join the party.
“I’m Kalinda,” one of them said.
She had curly red hair, a face full of freckles and an infectious smile.
“I prepare your breakfast tray every day.”
“And I select and cut the flowers for your room. I’m Nansia,” an older woman said. “I’m the keeper of the greenhouse for vegetables and flowers and such.”
“Thank you so much, Kalinda and Nansia,” I said. “I’m delighted to meet you both and to know who’s responsible for such a cheerful start to my mornings.”
The women grinned, clearly pleased.
After the other kitchen maids and I had introduced ourselves, I spoke to the group as a whole.
“I’m so sorry that Pharis forced you into such an unnatural and uncomfortable silence all this time. As you’ve probably known him longer than I have, I’m sure you already know how beastly he is. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to work for him.”
There were shaking heads and confused looks all around.
“No, miss, he isn’t ‘beastly’ at all,” Nansia said.
“Prince Pharis is good to us,” Kalinda said, and the room was filled with nods of agreement.
“He’s generous,” one of the footmen said.
“And kind,” said another.
“He’s a bit cranky at times,” the chef told me, “but who isn’t? It’s nice to have him home. We all miss the Prince when he isn’t in residence.”
What? Had Pharis swayed them all to say only nice things about him?
Shock almost prevented me from speaking, but Korbin’s remark and Pharis’ protracted absence from the dining room had me wondering.
“Is he not in residence now then?” I asked.
“Oh no, he’s here,” Bretton said. “He’s just been… busy. I’m sure you’ll see him again soon.”
“And every night he’s been—” Kem stopped herself mid-sentence.
Apparently the vow of silence had ended, but not her loyalty to the Prince’s privacy.
The near-miss seemed to remind the rest of the staff of their duties.
Clearing his throat, Chef Korbin said, “It’s time we all returned to work. Have a good night, my lady.”
The room cleared except for Kem, who wrapped her arms around me and evanesced us both back to my room.
Though the space was luxurious and beautiful, I was growing tired of its confines.
“I could really use some fresh air,” I said to her. “Do you suppose you could evanesce me outside tomorrow?”
“I’d love to, my lady. But I’m not sure if it’s allowed.”
“Could you find out?” I asked.
Adding a heavy layer of facetiousness to my tone, I said, “Perhaps your ‘generous,’ ‘kind’ employer wouldn’t begrudge me a peek at the ocean and fall foliage? Or a look at the rest of the castle. Unless he’s keeping me tucked away in here because he doesn’t want me to see what he’s been up to?”
“Up to?” Kem asked.
“Scheming and plotting with his allies. You don’t have to cover for him. I know he’s planning to try to overthrow the King.”
Kem laughed out loud. “You are funny, my lady. I thought for a moment you were serious.”
“You know you don’t have to say, ‘my lady’ when you address me,” I told her. “I’m a commoner.”
“But you’re a guest of the Prince,” she said, “and he clearly holds you in high esteem.”
Leaving me to stand on my own, she moved to the bed and turned it down for me.
“I think Prince Pharis is keeping you ‘tucked away in here’ as you say because he wants you to rest and fully heal. And he hasn’t been visiting while you’re awake because—”
“While I’m awake?” I asked, cutting her off. “Do you mean to say he’s been visiting my room while I sleep?”
“I didn’t say anything of the sort,” Kem said, moving quickly toward the door. “Do you need help getting to the washroom before you retire for the night?”
“No, I can manage,” I told her.
“What were you about to say? He hasn’t been visiting during the day because…”
Standing at the door, Kem said, “Because he’s been busy. Good night, my lady.” And the girl quickly left the room.