Chapter Forty-Two Riela #2
The Blood Court had been soundly defeated, and even in the dry text, I could feel the historian’s pride. The book ended shortly
after that first battle and didn’t mention Koru, so he must’ve risen to power more recently.
I set the book aside and rubbed my eyes. I hadn’t been focusing on the script, but my head ached. Hopefully I’d get used to
the magic or my research was going to be extremely painful, and I was already getting my daily quota of pain just by keeping
us in Lohka.
I pressed a hand against my empty stomach. How long had it been since breakfast? My chest was a little tight, but it didn’t
feel like we’d been here that long.
Vastien set aside his book and stretched. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a snack.”
I slanted a suspicious glance at him. “Are you just saying that because you can hear my stomach growling?”
He grinned. “Yes. I don’t know how you’ve ignored it for so long, especially since you were reading that boring history book.”
I hummed noncommittally and did not tell him that I’d gotten used to ignoring hunger. I’d eaten better during the last few weeks than I had for the entire previous year, but the effects of too little food weren’t so easily erased.
“Should I eat before I have tea with Lord Mar or will food be served?”
Vastien grimaced. “Are you sure you want to meet with him? He’s—”
“Dangerous, I know. I’m still meeting with him.”
Vastien’s face settled into grim lines of acceptance. “Mar would be all too pleased to feed you, I’m sure, but we’re not going
to let him.”
“Why not? Would it put me in his debt somehow?”
Vastien reluctantly shook his head. “And it’s considered bad manners to try to poison someone over tea, but I’m not risking
it. We will choose the location and refreshments.”
I stared at him, unable to tell if he was joking or not. If poisonous tea was only considered bad manners, then perhaps some
of Garrick’s concern had been warranted.
I picked up the dahlia, which looked just as perfect as it had this morning, and tucked it into my hair. “Okay, let’s see
what Lord Mar knows about my magic.”
Vastien’s mouth compressed into an unhappy line, but he offered me his hand. When I accepted, he rose and pulled me to my
feet. “Hold on to me. We’ll step to the kitchen then the formal sitting room.”
I’d gotten used to the castle moving me between rooms when I stepped through a doorway, but it was much stranger when my surroundings
changed between one step and the next without the doorway.
The kitchen was huge, with four massive hearths and at least a dozen people working. It smelled like warm bread and roasting
meat and my stomach growled louder.
“Vastien Grim, get your sticky fingers out of my kitchen!” a tall, plump man shouted while barreling toward us with a wooden spoon raised like a dagger. He had pale skin and dark hair covered with a cloth hat.
“Ciacho, I missed you, too,” Vastien said with a grin. “But my companion is wasting away from hunger. Have mercy on us. We
need tea and an afternoon meal, just a small one, for the formal silver forest sitting room, then we’ll vanish.”
Ciacho scowled, but then his attention turned to me. Emotions flashed across his face too fast to identify before he settled
on curiosity. “You’re the human that came through the door with the king.”
I dipped my chin. “I’m Riela. Pleased to meet you.” I looked around at the organized chaos and winced. “But you’re busy. We
don’t need a whole meal with our tea. Maybe just a slice of bread, if you have a loaf ready. Or a bowl of soup or stew or
whatever it is that smells so good.”
Ciacho’s scowl returned. “You might have to make do with a slice of bread”—he said it like it was an insult—“from this scoundrel, but you’ll get better from my kitchen. What do you like?”
“I like food,” I said plainly. “I’m not picky.”
“Beer or wine? Do you eat meat? Venison or fish? Are you allergic to anything? What’s your favorite food in the world?” he
asked without pausing to let me answer.
I ticked off the responses on my fingers. “Wine, yes, venison, no, and I don’t have a particular favorite, but I do love dessert.”
I tipped my head to the side. “Did I get them all?”
He huffed, but a smile peeked through. “You’ll do. Wait here and I’ll get this lot started on it.” He leveled a glare at Vastien.
“And you won’t eat it all.”
Vastien put his free hand over his heart. “I wouldn’t think of it.”
Ciacho left with a grumble. He called out something I couldn’t quite catch and the kitchen’s chaos shifted to a new form.
A large silver tray appeared on one of the long countertops and several people began adding dishes to it.
“We interrupted the whole kitchen,” I murmured with a wince.
“Don’t worry about it. Ciacho might complain, but he lives for this. Feeding people is his passion, and I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist you.”
I glanced up at Vastien. “So I’m just here so you won’t get smacked with a wooden spoon?”
He laughed. “Pretty much.”
I watched the workers skillfully move around each other. “This castle doesn’t create food with magic?” I asked quietly, unwilling
to risk insulting Ciacho.
“The castle doesn’t, but the people can, if they’d like.” He demonstrated by creating an apple and handing it to me. “But
it takes power and a reasonable understanding of how to make what you want. Cooking the standard way is faster and easier
and generally tastes better. Especially in the castle. Ciacho is a genius, and he refuses to share a single recipe. Garrick
pays him a fortune—at least, he used to. Dek must’ve kept paying him when Garrick disappeared.”
I pocketed the apple with an appreciative nod as the chef in question returned. He was balancing two delicate teacups on a
small tray. “I’ve been working on the replenishment tea.” His eyebrows rose. “I’m assuming it’s for you?”
My grimace made him laugh. “I’ll take that as a yes. Try this one.”
He handed me the first teacup. It smelled deeply minty. I downed it in a single gulp, then gagged before clamping my jaw shut.
My eyes watered. The tea was still vile, except now it tasted like livestock muck with mint mixed in. Eventually, the worst
of it passed and the mint remained. It was a marginal improvement.
Ciacho handed me the second cup. “This will help wash it down.”
This tea was straight mint as far as I could tell. It should’ve been delicious, but with the memory of the replenishment tea
so fresh, it was all I could do to force myself to drink it.
“If I may make a suggestion,” I started gently. Ciacho nodded. “The second tea needs to be completely different.” I held up
the cup. “This reminds me of what I just drank, which ruins the flavor, lovely as it is.”
“And the replenishment tea? The truth, if you please.”
I winced. “Vile, just minty and vile this time.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “We’ll keep working. This was the best we could come up with today, but I’m sure we’ll find something
better.”
“Thank you for trying.” Already, I could feel it working, and the ache in my chest eased somewhat.
He bowed slightly, then speared Vastien with a glare. “I will have someone deliver the tray, so I won’t have to worry about
you dropping it. Again.”
Vastien gasped in outrage. “That was one time! Am I never going to live it down?”
Ciacho grinned. “Not as long as I’m still here.”
Vastien grumbled good-naturedly, and I smiled at the chef. “Thank you, for everything. Sorry we interrupted your day.”
“Bah!” He waved off my words. “It was no trouble. Enjoy your tea.”
“I’m sure we will.”