37. Raithe #2
I shoved my fingers through my hair, finding purchase along my scalp. I didn’t know what else to do with them. I didn’t even know what to say. My mind had gone utterly blank—something that had never happened to me before.
“About Hector?” she reminded me with amusement.
“Right, Hector. He—” I cleared my throat and tried again.
“Hector quickly showed me that there was always something else to learn. He taught me where to look and how to use our senses, sharpening our bodies and softening our minds. He believed guardians are a symbol of hope to our people. That we make them feel safe, even during this curse, because we’re also protectors of the queendom. ”
Rahzlyn’s hand slid down my arm—to my hand. “He sounds like a wonderful man, Raithe. I wish I could have met him. Tell me more?”
The words climbed up my throat, begging to be set free.
“He kept his favorite books in the antechamber after Queen Auden’s passing and read there even though there was no queen to watch.
When he… passed unexpectedly last year, most of his belongings were destroyed.
Except Maryn didn’t know those books in the antechamber were his. ”
I’d been careless, letting Barto and Chessah spy on me while reading in the chair—Hector’s chair—wishing he was still there.
“What about your father?” Rahzlyn asked tentatively, lowering her hand. As if she sensed the dark direction of my thoughts. “Did he enjoy books, too?”
I laughed sharply. “My father enjoyed ale and his fishing boat. He was not a good man. But my mother—” I stopped myself abruptly, unable to go there. “You’re leading us in the wrong direction, by the way.”
Rahzlyn peered around. “Are you certain?”
Amusement tickled my chest. “I’ve lived here for twelve years. I think I know my way around.”
She darted ahead, her bare feet flashing beneath the hem of her dress.
I called after her, “That leads to the training courtyard.” She spun in the opposite direction, hopping over the streams of water lining the floor.
“And that’s the Great Hall. That’s the servants’ wing.
That’s the guest wing. Aaaand that’s the throne room—”
Whirling to face me, she groaned. “Fine, I give in. Which way to the kitchens?”
“Are those the manners of a princess?”
She blew a loose curl from her forehead that my fingers itched to smooth back. “Please, oh dutiful guardian. If you’re going to follow me everywhere, you might as well be of use.”
“As though me being charged with protecting your life isn’t useful.”
“At this rate you’re endangering my life. I’m starving here.”
I laughed genuinely this time. On anyone else I didn’t have the tolerance for such dramaticism, but on her it was disarming.
Taking pity on her grumbling stomach, I guided us in the correct direction. “Lucky for you, Nio never leaves the kitchens. Not even to sleep.” I was only partially joking.
Rahzlyn inhaled deeply. “Even from here it smells divine. I can’t imagine how it smells to you.”
I swung open the door to the kitchens. The burly cook lifted his head from the table where he’d been kneading dough. Behind him, the kitchens opened up to an outdoor garden with herbs, vegetables, some fruits, and even spices.
“Princess!” Nio clasped his hands together, causing more flour to plume the air. “When Letti would return with all that untouched food, I feared you’d grown tired of my cooking.”
Rahzlyn’s face softened. “I didn’t mean to offend you. My appetite hasn’t been what it normally is. Until now,” she said, glancing briefly in my direction. “And I’m sorry to bother at this hour—”
“Nonsense! Come, come and see.” Nio beckoned her to him. “Do you prefer savory, sweet, spicy?”
“All of the above.”
Nio presented her with a plethora of options he had on hand. He was always trying new concoctions that never made it onto Maryn’s preferred menu. As Rahzlyn scarfed down her food, I pondered our conversation on the terrace the other night.
I never allowed myself to admit what Hector had become to me when I had the chance. That pain was easier to suppress along with the rest of my past, rather than facing it. Hector’s books had been my last remaining tether to his existence. A symbol of our shared love of history.
For the first time, I wanted someone to know those things about me.
“Nio, everything you make is delectable,” Rahzlyn gushed. “My grandmother would have either loved you or envied you.”
I was content to watch her eat atop the flour-dusted table, her bare feet swaying with delight. Her tanned, glyphed legs peeked from beneath her skirt, and the sudden memory of them gleaming in the bath had my skin tightening.
What was she doing to me?
Between mouthfuls, Rahzlyn asked Nio about his work and his life before the palace.
She wanted to know about his family that still lived in the city and how they spent their time together when he was offered time away.
All the while, crumbs stuck to her lips, and I tempered the ridiculous urge to swipe them away with my thumbs.
“I hope these have been to your liking,” Nio said. “I’ve had to get quite creative with the limited ingredients we have on hand these days.”
“What are Scorpio’s specialty foods, given the drought?”
“Don’t get him started,” I muttered in warning.
Nio’s eyes lit up. “Figs, pomegranates, and dates are our most drought-tolerant fruits. Foundational grains and legumes such as lentils, farro, and bulgur are still plentiful, enabling more diverse meal options. Our saffron farming is in high demand, as are olives. Almonds used to be, though they are too water intensive. We still rely on imports from Leo and Sagittarius for most spices and vegetables. Years ago, our crustaceans and shellfish numbers were the highest in all of Gaianos. Now they’re harvested sparingly, as you can tell from my menu.
” Nio clapped his hands together. “But I always ensure we’re stocked on sweets.
What do you think of that honey-soaked phyllo? ”
Rahzlyn bit into the powdered pastry and moaned in response.
My body heated from the guttural sound. It was such an abrupt reaction that I shot to my feet from the wooden bench, unsure what to do.
Both of them peered at me oddly. I tried to imagine anything other than her making such a sound again, but it was far too pleasurable to rid from my memory.
Thankfully, my behavior was quickly ignored.
“Your cooking is extraordinary, Nio.”
“Not all who are extraordinary hail from an Academy, and not all who hail from an Academy are extraordinary.” He winked at Rahzlyn. “I have faith in the Astrals and therefore have faith in you. Do not let the palace rumors deter you. You will find hudro in no time.”
Rahzlyn’s chewing slowed. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Thank you, Nio.”
Nio bowed his head. Rahzlyn, standing nearly a foot taller, slid from the table and embraced him. This earned a surprised raise of his bushy brows over her shoulder at me. “Maybe if you started hugging me, I’d cook your favorite meal more often and not only after you win me coins.”
“Not a chance, Nio,” I said dryly.
On our venture back up to her chamber, Rahzlyn peered at me curiously. “What is your favorite dish?”
“Nio makes a mean roasted lobster.”
“And dessert?”
“I’m not into sweets.”
“Blasphemy. Quick!” She jabbed her fist into my side. “At sword-point, name one treat. Just one.”
“You’re impossible.”
She pressed harder. “And deadly.”
“Alright.” I couldn’t help but indulge her theatrics. “Olive oil cake. Though I haven’t had it in a long time. Olive trees are fairly drought tolerant, so they have become our largest exported good.”
Satisfied with my answer, she feigned the action of sheathing a sword. I chuckled.
“What does food taste like for you, as a guardian? Describe olive oil cake to me.”
Guardians were often questioned about what the world was like, but never about such mundane things as cake.
“It’s hard to explain,” I settled on. “Food is like a journey. I get this sense of where it came from, what it’s been through.
Olive oil cake is like the feeling of the afternoon sun on your skin.
I can taste the grove it came from, the wind in the leaves, even a hint of the soil. The simplest ingredients feel… alive.”
“That sounds overwhelming.”
“The more in control I am, the easier it is to hone one sense at a time and temper how much or little I tap into each.” I hadn’t allowed myself to savor food that way in a long time. “What’s your favorite food?”
“Carrots, parsnips, potatoes—”
“Vegetables?” I couldn’t help but laugh.
Neither could Rahzlyn as she lifted a finger. “Drenched in herbs and spices, might I add. I like being able to taste when something’s come from the earth. I’m a terrible cook, but in a good mood, my grandmother could rival the chefs of Taurus.”
I let out a low whistle. “Sounds like she had a way in the kitchen.”
“Her entire family did. Herbalism was her legacy.” She swiped at her eyes. “So was that shop. Our home. Stars, I could kill Allory and Markus for what they’ve done to it. To my family. It had to be them, right?”
I swallowed thickly. “We may not be able to do anything right now, but they won’t get away with it.”
I intended to confirm it was them, only the prisoner we’d captured refused to talk. The guilt of hiding him from Rahzlyn twisted in my gut, yet my need to handle him alone—and pry the truth from him—was stronger.
“I’ve been wondering.” She glanced up at me with glossy eyes. “Is the palace such a dangerous place that a queen must always be guarded? There’s no way the apostai could get close to here, could they?”
“Not without an armada.” I redirected her as she veered in the opposite direction of her chambers. “The true reason we protect royals at all hours of the day is to protect them from themselves, not necessarily from others.”
Rahzlyn halted in her tracks. “What do you mean?”