Chapter 6 Sound of Hunger

SERAPHINA

Immediately pulling myself out of my thoughts, I brace for displeasure or suspicion, and reach out to his mind.

Hungry. He is thinking. I want something to eat. Even better if there's meat.

"I was thinking, my king," I offer quickly, keeping my voice measured, "that you retired quite early yesterday and had nothing to eat. You must be hungry by now."

Something shifts behind his eyes. She's not wrong. A beat of quiet satisfaction that does not reach his expression at all.

"Mm. Go make something."

I turn and go, with Verna following.

She is moving briskly, which I interpret as relief at having been released from that room. She falls into step beside me without speaking until we have rounded the first corner, and then she exhales.

"Don't do that again," she murmurs. "You'll get us all killed."

I know she means the fan. I don't argue. If I were standing where she stands, without the special ability, I would think the same thing.

I nod, and we continue toward the kitchen without further discussion. I am already composing a menu in my head.

I know what Aldric wants. He wants meat. I'll give him that. Even though Mira said no meat yesterday, that was yesterday's rule. Seems like temporary. Surely he can't be kept from eating it forever, right?

I locate a wrapped joint of salted pork without much trouble. I am reaching for it when I notice Mira is standing by the doorway.

I have no idea how long she has been there.

"You're preparing the king's meal?" she asks, walking in.

"Yes, ma'am."

Her gaze drops to the pork, then back to me. "Put that back. The king has no appetite. Meat doesn't agree with him."

So it's not a temporary rule. Still, I think, Because you've never let him have any, so of course he seems to have no appetite. Anyway, I set the joint down.

"I understand," I tell her carefully. "Though I wonder, if it would be permitted, whether I might use certain spices and preparations that approximate the flavor. Smoked paprika, charred vegetables, juniper. The texture and taste would read as a proper meal without any actual meat going in. It might help with his appetite."

Mira studies me. Her eyes are evaluating.

"No actual meat," she repeats.

"None. I give you my word."

She nods crisply. "Then proceed."

She leaves, and I turn the question over in my mind. Why no meat? Is it connected to his relapse yesterday, to whatever happens to him when he loses control?

Verna appears at my elbow. "Just follow her instructions and don't add your own ideas. Or you won't even see it coming."

On this point, I agree with her. Mira's authority in this castle seems to run deep, and staying on her good side feels like one of the more reliable forms of protection available to me. I turn back to the spice shelf and get to work.

The dish takes close to two hours. That is not an exaggeration and not a complaint. I char, soften, layer, reduce. The mushrooms go in twice, once for body and once shredded fine for texture. The smoked paprika goes in early and again at the end. The juniper berries go in whole and then get pressed. By the time it comes together, it smells like something that has been cooking since the previous evening over a low fire, and the surface has developed a deep reddish-brown color that is thoroughly deceptive.

I am ladling it into the serving bowl when footsteps arrive at the kitchen entrance.

Aldric steps in alone.

Verna and I drop into a bow simultaneously.

What took so long? He glances at the bowl, then at me. "Is it ready?"

"Yes, my king."

His gaze shifts to Verna. "You. Try it."

Verna has watched every step of this preparation. She knows exactly what went into it, and there's no poison here. Still, she takes the spoon with a hand that is visibly trembling, brings it to her lips, and swallows. Her face settles on relief.

Aldric picks up his spoon after that.

Smells right, I hear.

He takes a bite. What is this? This is good. If only I could eat more of this kind of thing. Maybe I should just tell her... A pause. No. I can't tell her that. Absolutely not. That would be undignified...

Despite how rich his inner world is, he eats in silence. His face is perfectly blank throughout. He does not look at me, does not do anything except consume the entire bowl with the controlled, deliberate pace of a man who refuses to appear hungry in front of witnesses.

This man is insufferable. If he likes it, why not just say so? What's so undignified about it? Still, now that I've figured out his preferences, I can keep making similar food next time.

When the bowl is empty, the kitchen windows have filled with proper morning light.

He sets the bowl down and straightens, and for a moment it seems as though he will simply leave. I am prepared for this. I am, in fact, hoping for it. And then a figure appears in the kitchen doorway.

A man, middle-aged, with a formal bearing and the particular stillness of a person who has spent a long time in service to someone dangerous. He is dressed in dark grey livery I do not recognize. Not Dragonhold colors.

Budd. The name surfaces in Aldric's mind before he has even fully registered the man's face, and with it comes a wave of flat, undiluted distaste. Jeannie's shadow. Annoying bug. If he's coming to me, it's never good news.

The man, Budd, dips his head respectfully. "Forgive the intrusion, my king. Mira told me I might find you here. The Queen Mother requests your presence to discuss a matter of some urgency."

Queen Mother. So Jeannie is Queen Mother. And this man, Budd, is her attendant or messenger, probably never far from her side.

Aldric's expression does not change by so much as a fraction. "What matter?"

"She did not specify, my king. Only that it was pressing."

Pressing. His voice in my head is entirely different from the voice he speaks aloud, the one cold and controlled, the other curling with contempt that has nowhere to go. She never specifies. She merely summons, and I am expected to arrive. Queen Mother. Haha. I have never accepted her as my mother. Not once in all the years she has been using that title!

The word sits in my chest strangely after I hear it.

Is the king at odds with his mother?