Chapter 125

Olivia

Stepping into the kitchen, despite Jenifer’s snide comment, honestly felt like entering a sanctuary from the tension-filled parlor.

The kitchen was a vibrant blend of old-world charm and modern-day convenience. Vaulted ceilings gave it an airy expanse, with large wooden beams crisscrossing overhead, bearing testament to the age of the mansion.

Sturdy brick walls, their reds and browns muted by time, enclosed the space warmly, the occasional flicker of light reflecting off the antique copper pots and pans hanging decoratively against them.

A grand stone hearth dominated one wall, its blackened surface a silent witness to countless meals prepared over open flames. Above it, a large iron rack held dried herbs, their fragrances intertwining and filling the air with a pleasant, earthy aroma.

The kitchen was more than just a place to prepare food; it was the heart of the home, pulsating with life, love, and history. In fact, I quickly came to the conclusion that it was the nicest room in the house, and I wished that I could stay in here until the end of the party.

Everywhere else felt so… empty and cold.

A broad oak work table occupied the center of the room, its surface scarred by years of use. Surrounding it were various wooden stools, suggesting the kitchen was not only a place of work but also of communal gathering.

Several servants sat on those stools, peeling potatoes and cutting meat.

Just then, a younger servant, probably in her early twenties with curly brown hair tied back in a loose bun, raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing in here, miss?”

Taken aback by the sudden attention, I mumbled, “Jenifer suggested that I help out.”

The young woman exchanged a look with an older servant. Rolling her eyes, she muttered something under her breath that I didn’t expect in the slightest. “That bitch.”

The older servant, a matronly figure with streaks of gray in her hair, gave the younger one a stern look, then turned to me with a warm smile.

“My dear, you're a guest. You don’t need to be in here. And…” Her eyes flickered down to my belly, and a warm smile came across her face. “You’re pregnant. You’re Nathan’s mate, right?”

My hand instinctively went to my belly. “Y-Yes,” I lied. “I am.”

The younger servants swooned. “He’s such a sweetheart,” one girl said, her cheeks flushing red. “You’re a lucky woman.”

Another servant rolled her eyes. “Lillian has always had a crush on Nathan. Don’t mind her.”

“So what?” the first servant, Lillian, replied with a smirk. “I would never act on it. But you can’t deny that he’s handsome and charming. Remember when Amy fell and he came running, and carried her to the chaise? It was like something out of a movie.”

The initial servant who noticed me, the one with curly hair, blushed a deep scarlet red. “Stop, Lillian. You shouldn’t be saying such things in front of his wife.”

I had to stifle a laugh. Nathan was handsome and charming; I couldn’t deny that. If only these girls knew the real extent of our ‘relationship’. Or, rather, the lack thereof.

Suddenly, the matronly servant’s voice rang out above the rest. “Anyway, you don’t need to be here, dear,” she said, standing and wiping her hand on her apron. “Let us know if you need anything. But please, go enjoy the party.”

I chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “Actually, I've worked in kitchens for years. I’d enjoy helping, if you’d let me. I’d rather not be mingling out… there.” I gestured behind me, toward the rapidly-filling dining hall.

The matronly servant seemed to consider this for a moment, her eyes scanning me as if gauging the sincerity in my words.

“Please?” I repeated.

“Well, if you insist,” the matronly servant replied. “There’s always work to be done.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. The truth was, I would take this bustling kitchen over mingling with Jenifer, Colin, and Maria any day. Slipping on an apron, I busied myself with some vegetables, chopping them with practiced ease.

The younger servant approached, leaning in closer as if sharing a secret. “You really worked in kitchens before?”

I nodded. “Yes, for several years.”

She smirked. “Well, you’re better off here than with that lot out there. Especially Jenifer.”

Surprised, I glanced at her. “She seems so soft-spoken, though a tad vindictive to me. Why?”

The servant snorted. “Soft-spoken, sure. But she’s a nightmare to us. Once, she said her tea wasn’t hot enough. Instead of just asking for a fresh one, she threw the cup of hot tea at another servant. It was actually very hot, and burned her badly.”

The servant, when she finished speaking, gestured to another girl by the sink. The girl noticed our conversation and, glancing around, quickly pulled her sleeve up to reveal a nasty red scar on her forearm from where she had been burned.

She covered it quickly, but the sick feeling in my stomach from the imagined pain of the incident lingered.

My eyes widened in shock. “That’s... that’s terrible.”

The servant nodded gravely. “Several have quit because of her,” she said. “They can’t handle all of the—”

“That’s enough, Amy.” The older servant’s voice cut through the air, followed by a stern look shot in our direction. Without another word, Amy, the younger servant, scurried away.

Thoughts swirled around in my mind as I continued to chop the vegetables. Casual conversation flowed freely; it seemed as though the servants were surprised to have one of the dinner guests being so willing to chat, and appreciated my company.

However, my mind wouldn’t stop racing over what I had just learned. I could tell that Jenifer was problematic, but I didn’t know that it was this bad. Servants being burned because of her? Quitting? Why was this the first I had heard about this?

I came to the conclusion, then, that I didn’t hear about it because Nathan simply didn’t know. Maybe I should tell him, I thought. He seemed close to Jenifer, and such news could put a strain on their relationship.

But then again, I felt he deserved to know the kind of person his adoptive sister truly was.

The bell rang then, signaling dinner time. The older servant clapped her hands.

“Alright, everyone! Let’s get dinner out.”

As I untied my apron, Amy leaned toward me again. “Thanks for helping. It was nice having you in here.”

“Anytime,” I replied with a small smile. As I made my way to the door, a familiar voice made me stop in my tracks.

“You're always where you shouldn’t be, aren't you?”

I whipped around. It was Colin.

He was leaning against the wall, his arms folded across his chest. When our eyes met, he pushed himself away from the wall and strode toward me in two long strides that easily closed the distance between us, making me feel as though I was shrinking before him.

He was tall, and looked so much like Nathan that it was uncanny. But whereas Nathan had warm, blue-green eyes, Colin’s were a cold and unfeeling gray.

His face was creased from years of frowning and worrying, two permanent indents between his eyebrows from an equally-permanent scowl on his face.

But aside from his aging appearance, he was tall and broad, and boasted thick muscles beneath his tight-fitting suit. I felt small and helpless beneath him.

“Well?” he asked. “Why aren’t you with the other guests?”