Page 63 of Shadows of Winter

“I meant about our project here.”

“I checked the mead earlier. It’s doing fine. The first batch will be ready in time for me to make mead vinegar for my lamb recipe.”

“The one with fennel and figs?”

“Yup.”

“That sounds amazing.” Kaylina’s stomach rumbled. When was the last time she’d eaten? It had been a long day.

“Because it is amazing. Especially when I make it.”

“Your self-confidence in your abilities is admirable.”

“It’s a hallmark of a good chef. When Silana made the recipe, I don’t know what she did, but it was drier than a desert.”

“Do you think we can pull this off, Fray?” Kaylina pulled her half of the blanket up to her chin while watching someone bundled on horseback clopping up the street. Despite everyone’s aversion to the castle, it was in a busy part of the city. If they could lure people in—and keep them from being slain by a curse—it had potential to be a good spot for an eating house and meadery.

“Of course.”

“Even though you’re so afraid of our establishment that you were going to sleep outside in the middle of winter under the murder holes?” Kaylina looked up. “Or are those the… what’d you call them? Macho-things.”

“Machicolations, yes. And I wasn’t afraid. I was wary. Also, it’s spring.”

“Do the mounds of snow piled along the streets know that?”

“One of the locals said it can snow even in the summer here. But that bush over there is budding out. And we’ll be successful. Don’t worry. The curse will make people curious to come.”

“The curse and the skeletons in the bedrooms.”

“Well, we might want to remove those eventually.”

Kaylina had been afraid to touch them. Nothing Vlerion had told her of the history of the place had changed that. If anything, she was more afraid to touch them now.

“Or people can sleep in the courtyard,” Frayvar offered. “Ten liviti for a blanket in this prime location.”

“Our customers will line up to take advantage of that deal.”

He nudged her with an elbow. “The good food and our amazing mead will make them line up. They’ll love it, and they’ll put up with the quirks. Just like they do back home.”

“The quirks back home are seagulls pooping on the railings and the tacky wind chimes made from seashells.”

“Come on. We get hurricanes. Not to mention that pirates raid Vamorka at least quarterly. Remember when we fought them off with crossbows and blunderbusses while the mayor and his wife were dining?”

“That is true.” Kaylina scratched her jaw. “Despite what these northerners and their beast-filled mountains—and catacombs—think, the south isn’t all sunshine and sandy beaches. Coming to the Spitting Gull can be dangerous, and people brave it anyway for the very recipes we’re going to make.”

“Yes, they do.”

“You’ve actually made me feel better, Fray.”

“Are you sure it was me and not the nasty pills?”

“Pretty sure. I— Are you expecting someone?” The person Kaylina had noticed on horseback hadn’t continued past like everyone else on the street.

The rider was a cloaked woman with a lean face and thick gray hair clasped on either side above her ears. She slid off her horse and walked through the gate with a lantern at her side.

“No,” Frayvar said. “Other than the Saybrook wagon that came of its own accord, I haven’t even been able to get supplies delivered. People don’t want to come through the gate. The worker who brought silverware chucked the pieces at the doors like darts.”

Though Kaylina’s leg protested, she pushed herself to her feet and grabbed the unwieldy crutch she was already starting to loathe.

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